Sunlight's Return
by MilkywayScribbles
Summary: After being on the run from Team Rocket, Jayce Ketchum is determined to bring down the organization and at last be reunited with Ash and Delia. But while he and his unexpected recruits are forced to apprehend the organization's wish to manipulate unspeakable power, the journey to salvation endangers the family he left behind to protect. "Silently Broken" 'verse.
1. I Can't Run Anymore

**Author's Note:**

Long time no see my readers! Here it is! THE STORY WE ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.

Thanks to your wishes of a continuation with this series, we are finally about to embark on the third installment of _Silently Broken_ 'verse! XD Yaaay! I know you all have been eager for this promised story, and I appreciate all your support and patience.

For those of you who are new readers, _Sunlight's Return_ is part of an ongoing three-part saga I have created that explains the absence of the Mr. Ketchum (my version: Jayce Ketchum), how his leaving affected Delia and Ash, and how I've overall tried to have these stories fill in any empty caps or questions about Ash's life and Pallet in general. So basically, my goal has been to make these stories for fans that are hungry for an explanation or those who enjoy the feel of the original series with a twist! XD

I would **HIGHLY **suggest reading _Sunlight's Return's_ predecessors before reading on (especially _Silently Broken_, for it might be a tad confusing to new readers). I have added in original characters, extending Ash's family, as well as original twists and turns that might need extra explaining (**for example**: Jayce and Drake are half-brothers, Ash and Gary are cousins, etc.). These concepts have been so happily accepted by my readers in the past, that I decided to keep them in the series seeing they have become beneficial to the plotline/development of the stories. But of course please don't feel intimidated as a new reader. :) The more readers, the merrier!

Also, just to name a few clarifications regarding _Sunlight's Return_, this fic will _**only**_ consist of three pairings. One being the overall predominate shipping, and the other two will be minor. **Hence**: The minor pairings will be hinted through the story; _**however**_, they are not the primary focus of this fanfic. Though they do have their importance and serve purpose. This is not a story solely based on romance, just with elements of it.

**Main pairing**: Parentshipping (Mr. and Mrs. Ketchum)

**Minor pairings**: Pokeshipping and Rocketshipping

**PG13 CONTENT: **Rated T for adult situation, violence, language, **mild **sexual content, and crude humor.

Lastly, this story takes place six years after Ash set off on his Pokémon journey making him sixteen. When will Pokémon ever officially end and if Kalos is the final region I do not know, but let us assume this would take place after Ash has visited all the regions- or at least the majority of them. ^^; The time scale in the show is so off that this is the best age range I could determine for one of our main protagonists!

Oh, and one more thing after writing one of the longest a/n's notes I have ever written!

**DISCLAIMER**: _Pokémon/Pocket Monsters_ belongs to Nintendo and Satoshi Tajiri. However, Jayce Ketchum and my other oc's belong to me. :)

Please enjoy, and be prepared for a bellyache of laughs, drama, and surprises to come! That you most definitely must do. ;)

* * *

><p><strong>Sunlight's Return<strong>

**Chapter 1**

_I Can't Run Anymore_

Resurrection.

To rise from ashes and live life to the fullest all over again.

Only a legendary, a guardian of the skies, could make such a miracle occur. The existence and power of such a divine spirit is far too large and complex for a mere being to comprehend. But to surpass…

Then there are those of humanity- ones who fight for life, the others who fight for destruction; in the end neither one will yield to the other, as they both wish to manipulate the power that can collapse all indestructible limitations, and to make those lost rise from ashes rise again, wrongly taken or not-

In the end, it is the control over the great power that they are fighting for.

The pure intentions against the impure intentions.

* * *

><p>Evening rolled in just as fast as the citizens in the bustling city of Saffron.<p>

Many of the people retired from their long, draining work hours and ventured off to a particular popular lavish restaurant instead of slaving over a hot stove. The dim-lit establishment was filled with many chattering guests, munching away and indulging on their fine dining experience with talk about their hectic day. All seemed normal. Costumers, workers, orders- that is, till a certain couple strolled into the vicinity. There in the later dinner hours entered a woman with dark blonde hair, dressed in a violet dress with a slit down the front accompanied by sparkling metallic gold earrings. The green haired man beside her wore a simple but finely crafted black suit with his arm tucked around hers. They appeared to be wealthy, spending their money frivolously on the most expensive items on the exquisite menu. However, that was not their main reason for being there.

From there, they approached a waitress at the front of the restaurant. "We had reservations with a Mr. Brimble," the man informed.

_Brimble_…

The waitress shot her gaze up from her post, catching sight of the couple before her. She blinked momentarily, and then smiled a very crooked grin. From there, the dressed-up woman sneakily slipped a compact mirror out of her indigo clutch; the makeup tool usually used to catch blemishes was a disguise for hiding her _true_ identity and purpose of being there. As the waitress drew her upper body forward to get a closer look, her smile only grew all the more at the compact mirror. She was expecting them. All three of them had their eyes locked again after the confirmation, and with a high head and a wink the worker led them over to their destination.

"Right this way."

They walked past a few occupied tables nonchalantly, going to the back of the restaurant and eventually stopped at a table only serving one. At least currently. There sat an older gentleman in a corner, dressed just as nicely as the one now accompanying him for dinner, and he was busy reading the menu.

The waitress saw he already had a glass of wine, and promptly acted on serving the others. "I will fetch you some drinks momentarily," she stated, gesturing for them to take their seats.

In unison the couple nodded to her as she strolled away, then their attention was turned elsewhere. They were anxious to get down to business.

"Mr. Brimble, right?" the man spoke up promptly, yet in a hushed tone. It wasn't long before the seated man drew his attention up, watching them closely with caution as they proceeded. "We're here about the job. Project _H_."

For a moment Mr. Brimble stared at them wide eyed, and settled his menu aside. _They_ were the new recruits? "Do sit down."

He was surprised that they were the ones chosen for the mission. The pair was much younger than him, and he wondered how much experience as agents they had under their belts. They had to at least be in their late twenties, so the couple's year of joining was within a wide time span. Then again, it wasn't as if his former boss would just send out _anyone _for this task.

They had to be the best of the best.

"You two sure you wanna take this on?" the retired man asked wearily as the couple sat down across from him, shocked someone jumped on the job he left behind so willingly. From what he understood, many had been offered the position but refused to take it. And he could hardly blame them.

"It was assigned to us," the dark-haired blonde woman responded first, placing her clutch in her lap, "and my partner and I never steer away from a good fight. Besides, we're supposed to get an extra big bonus if we pull this off." She then looked to her male friend with a confident grin. "And we _will_."

"Well, I tip my hat to you two," he replied with a half-smile and huff. "But it isn't going to be easy."

Though that claim didn't appear to persuade the confident duo at all.

There was this abundant feeling of pride radiating off the pair, as if nothing in the world scared them. That, Brimble supposed, was the kind of recruits needed for the job. Ones who were willing to face all obstacles, headstrong enough to plow through dilemmas and think tactfully about their plan of attack- and, maybe, not feel sorry for their enemy's situation. Then again, from what he witnessed during his time on duty, those who were unyielding to the most dangerous situations, so stubborn and set on their goal that logical thinking escaped their raging minds completely, ended up being caught in their own trap. And Brimble could second that on a very _personal_ level.

It was only right to give them forewarning.

Seeing his words hadn't done much in shaking their high spirits to a more stable status, Brimble sighed and held onto his wine glass loosely, swishing the liquid back and forth gently. He then met their gaze with serious tension. "Let me just be straight with you. Give you some advice before you two get ahead of yourselves. I've been high-tailing this guy for almost ten years and if it wasn't for my recent retirement, I'd still be out in the field lookin' for him. He's impossible to track down. One minute you think he's in a town, the next he's in a big city that is loaded with people. Then he's winning leagues and off to the next region."

The hired man nodded first. "So we've heard he's a slippery character."

"And that he's a skilled trainer," his partner in crime added.

Brimble just chuckled faintly. They didn't get it. "Slippery and skilled are understatements," he bluntly stated, his smile shrinking. There was this harboring of old, unforgettable memories of those nine and a half years ago, all the disaster that occurred on that boat. Finding his partner dead, to have allowed their captive to escape without much of a fight, sinking their own use of transportation- Oh how cold that water was...

"When I was first assigned to this mission, I lost my partner of five years at the hands of him…it still bothers me today. This guy _is_ clever, so don't be so easily fooled by him. We sadly had to learn the hard way..."

The man had to be in his late fifties to early sixties, which explained why he got the boot. At his age, with the kind of occupation he previously had, he was just a disposable worker no longer fit and young enough to handle all the endurance and heavy stress. Not to mention, the appointed pair had heard plenty from their boss about how displeased he was with Brimble and his entire squad, and how they so pathetically failed at capturing this trainer, not even nabbing one of his Pokémon. Knowing this set a high bar for the younger agents, and if this trainer was as tough and sneaky as everyone said, _maybe_ Brimble's inadequacies weren't his fault entirely...With a nervous quiver of his lip, the man looked to his partner with sheer concern, and while she usually assured his worrying as nothing, she too appeared a tad unnerved by Brimble's words.

How could they not? Never had either one of them taken on a mission in which their object of capture was potentially as quick-witted and possibly a _threat_.

Brimble automatically took notice of their discomfort. "Now don't get discouraged, 'cause personally I wanna see this guy handed over to the boss and done away with." He did not intend on _completely_ demolishing their blinding egos, only giving them some simple and _useful_ advice before proceeding. Brimble just didn't want to see them disappoint the boss so miserably, waste a good part of their life on nothing, like he shamefully had- and _finally_ see someone successfully catch this trainer.

"He has given me hell for the last remaining years of my career, and I went out as a fool, thanks to him," the former agent went on, bitterness growing between every word. "Wasn't even able to capture one of his Pokémon... But I'm sure you two will pull it off," he abruptly dragged out, trying to shake off the remaining hate he had for the enemy. "You do have his profile, don't you? I'm sure if you do, that you know he has no specific type of Pokémon."

The man nodded first. "We do. It was faxed over this morning."

"But what we're curious to know is his character. His weaknesses _and _strengths," the woman threw in seriously.

So that's what they were getting at.

Brimble grinned with a slight shake of his head before slurping down his last gulp of wine. Damn, he needed more. "Well if you want to talk about strengths you better be a damn good runner and a fast thinker."

Both the agents' eyebrows lowered, but the man was the first to gulp. _And_ speak. They didn't like the sound of this, nor appreciated his unreadable expression.

"How fast and smart are we talkin'?"

The older man motioned for the waitress to pour him another glass. His eyes narrowed as the liquid hit the cup.

"_Exceptionally_ fast and smart."

* * *

><p>"And yet again, the Orange Crew Leader, Drake, wins the match with a crushing victory thanks to Ditto! Ladies and gentlemen, is there anything this man can't do?"<p>

At that very moment, in the sweltering island sun, Drake did feel unstoppable, even as he fought his way through adoring fans and straight back to his private lounge, more exhausted than ever.

Crashing onto the couch, Drake sighed and reclined back into the expensive leather furniture. Thanks to the assistance of the stadium workers, his Pokémon were immediately checked over after the battle, preparing them and Drake himself for their next exciting happening for the day. His _last_ battle. That is, for the season; which meant he was officially off duty of his leader roles and challenges for the remaining summer. It was like music to his ears, relief of immense stress that had been lifted off his shoulders.

His moment of quietness and reflection, however, ended abruptly by the barreling open of the lounge door.

"You were stupendous out there, Drake! Completely awe-inspiring!"

The skilled trainer cocked an eye open, finding his agent, Randy, standing before him with an equally enthusiastic expression of admiration as was in his voice. In some instances, Randy came off more pumped after a battle than he did. Soon Drake chortled at his compliment, and rubbed his sweaty forehead with a small towel. That battle sure was a close one for the trainer! He couldn't deny that. "I think it's fair to say that challenger gave me a run for my money, Randy," Drake replied with a small grin.

"She sure did!" the trainer's agent agreed. "But ya still hit that battle right out of the park! I've already got journalists calling in saying they want to schedule an interview with you," he went on buoyantly, flipping through his cellphone. "Of course, not until you come back from your retreat in the woods."

When did Randy not ever sneak in a chance to tease the man? The busy agent had been working at the Orange League's stadium longer than Drake had the job, and from day one he found a way to get underneath Drake's skin. But he never minded. Randy was harmless, flamboyant, and at times made ridiculous puns and jokes, but was never a considerable pain. After all, Randy sure had a knack for roping the well-known trainer into several interviews with _popular_ journalists, on _popular_ talk-shows that would air in _all_ regions.

"Do you have to put it that way?"

"Oh, I'm just teasin' ya, kid," Randy laughed again, jokingly slugging Drake's toned arm. "I don't blame you wanting to escape all this- well, madness! Speaking of which- Elsa, do you have his ticket?"

Randy's voice bounced off the walls loud enough for a woman with light blue hair to emerge out of a closeby room and travel straight into the lounge area with a calming smile.

"I have it right here, sir," she answered, meandering towards the men with a small, thick piece of paper in her hand. "Here you go Drake," she presented, standing before him. "Enjoy your vacation! You deserve it."

Drake sat up enough to graciously take the item he had so desperately been longing to hold from the secretary. "Thanks, Elsa."

"And don't you dare call to check in!" Randy ordered, wagging his finger. "The stadium will be fine, and I've got Elsa watering your houseplants while you're away."

The trainer nodded, seeing no desire to fight. "I appreciate it. You two are the best an Orange Crew Leader could ask for."

This only led to Drake's agent letting out another booming laugh. "Tell that to the guy before you! Hahaha!"

Typical Randy. Always finding humor in everything.

Eventually, before he became caught up in Randy's ongoing laughter, Elsa stole Drake's attention with a playful smirk. "Now Drake, do you promise to watch yourself? Because you do tend to work when it's not necessary," she remarked, eyeing him carefully.

A faint shade of pink scattered itself across Drake's cheeks. He had been caught red-handed, and couldn't argue the woman's claim.

Ah, Valencia Island. For the last few weeks it had been the place Drake dreamed about going, and now he was finally setting off.

Being the leader of the Orange Crew, the man had several duties to attend to: scheduling meetings with fellow gym leaders, private training sessions with his team, his agent arranging several opportunities for him to appear in magazines and on T.V., conferences held for young trainers seeking advice, and of course, monthly matches in which he gave it his all every time. With hardly any time to himself, Drake always savored the moments when he could escape Pummelo. Christmas was about the only break he got till that glorious warm blooming season- _summer._ Summer had so many perks for him. It was in summer that the skilled trainer would receive a two month reprieve from work, and then it was back to the stadium once more in September, doing the same old same all over again.

Drake planned on spending every second in Valencia Island doing absolutely nothing. It was a very secluded and quiet island, hardly any dwellers scattered across the land. Besides Prof. Ivy's research lab, the area consisted nothing more than wild Pokémon and breathtaking scenery. Drake was beginning to fantasize about laying out on the beach, hearing the waves crash against the sandy shore, his hardworking Pokémon snoozing peacefully away, and the sun's rays kissing his skin to the point where he earned a perfect tan… Having some time away from all the bustling cheers of roaring, dedicated fans was exactly the kind of reprieve Drake was in need of, and he was glad others saw that, too. There was no way he was going to push himself, no matter how tempting it sounded to train. After all, he and his Pokémon were on the verge of collapsing!

Drake smiled back at his publicist. "Believe me, I won't."

And he meant that with all sincerity.

In no time at all, Drake was given his healed and rested Pokémon, finally releasing him from the stadium entirely. Picturing himself laying on his favorite beach chair with a drink in his hand, the roars of the calming sea crash against the shore and cool water just skimming across his feet... It was the trainer's ideal vision of Heaven on Earth, collecting a sort of peace inside of him as he strolled towards the exit. He was free without any restrictions holding him back.

Well, at least free for roughly a month and a half.

"Bye, Drake!" he heard Elsa yell, waving.

"Have a save trip!" Randy added, standing beside her. "I better not see you come in a day sooner!"

Drake winked back as he glanced over his shoulder. Then, he waved in return. "You won't! See ya, guys! And thank you again!"

With his head held high Drake pushed forward, and his face met the rays of the brilliant sun. The entire front area of the stadium was empty, all of the workers and fans officially gone for the season until the next one. The trainer could only imagine how plugged up the airport was... Eventually, Drake looked down at his plane ticket and grinned an uncontainable one. Claustrophobic the airport might be or not, he didn't care. All he had to do was stop by his house, grab his already-packed belongings, double-check the security of his dwelling, and head straight for his destination and most likely wait in a long brutal line.

Then, he'd be off.

_Just think…_ He thought, leaning his neck back and savoring the feeling of the sun against his cheeks._ In few hours we're gonna be on a beach with no interruptions, no worries, and maybe I can at last get an even-layered tan-_

However, before Drake could take a step forward or expand upon his wondrous day dream, a sharp sound pricked his ears, clear enough for him to freeze instantly. He dropped his arched neck and stood still with curiosity rising, closely listening to the sound emanating behind him. A faint whistling of a tune that sounded oh so familiar and it came out of the blue...

_Wait a minute…_

Swiveling his feet slowly, Drake peered over his shoulder, only to find the last person he'd imagine seeing leaning against the building's wall with arms folded across his chest. How long had he been standing there?

The familiar face smirked as their eyes met. The whistling ended. "Hey. 'Bout time you noticed."

Had it really been close to _ten_ years?

Drake could hardly breath, he didn't even blink. Instead, he adjusted his throat and stuttered with such surprise he could not repress it. "H-hey," the young trainer swallowed. He had to tighten the grip on his ticket or else it'd fly away from the shock. "W-what are you doing _here_?"

* * *

><p>The lush green landscape, the peaceful sound of streams running, and the peaks of the high unmovable mountains of home took Ash's breath away every time.<p>

With the company of Pikachu riding on his shoulder, he was drawing closer and closer to the proximity of Pallet Town as he raced along the dirt road, smelling the familiar scent of oak trees' sap and many blooming flowers. And, _of course_, fields full of farm Pokémon. But that didn't bother the aspiring trainer. All that was on his mind was seeing his family again, visiting the Oak lab, and filling up his and Pikachu's rumbling bellies. _That_ was a definite for sure.

It felt like ages since he was last home, though it was merely just a year since he set off on another journey. While Ash was notorious for not keeping his calls home constant, he did attempt to come home for a short visit before gallivanting off to another region. However, arriving back home this time felt- different for him. Skidding through town with a brilliant smile, Ash passed several familiar buildings and faces, returning their grins with enthusiastic hellos and waves. It was only a matter of time before he reached his destination.

"Hey Greta!" he waved joyfully, slowing up his pace. "See you're still kickin,' Miss Whiskers!"

The old store keeper switched her attention from arguing with a costumer about the overpriced watermelon to the call of her name, discovering the arriving trainer with a similar friendly grin.

"Hi, Ash!" the little old woman greeted back, her elderly Meowth perched at Greta's feet as the feline went on grooming her mangy coat. The costumer groaned in annoyance at being ignored. "Glad to see you're home! Maybe you could take on that summer job I offered you last year!"

For someone else to deal with prickly costumers other than herself.

Ash simply chuckled back awkwardly as he went on jogging. "We'll see!" He hadn't planned on spending forever in Pallet, though it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about staying longer than usual or possibly earning some extra cash on the side...

But the thought didn't linger too long in the trainer's mind, for soon he spotted another familiar face begging to be acknowledged. Well, at least Ash enjoyed innocently teasing this individual.

"Hey, Tom! Nice bag!"

Without hesitation, the middle-aged mailman swung a glance over his shoulder, finding that his conversation with a neighbor (who, on the inside, was pleading for someone to intervene their brutal discussion over the appropriate diameter of a mailbox) was so rudely interrupted by none other than a member of the- _Ketchum _Clan.

"Now don't you cause any mischief, young man!" Tom hollered back, huffing to himself as he gawked back at his neighbor. How dare he mildly insult his finely woven mailbag! "Honestly, they're upstanding Samaritans when they stay in school, but as soon as they set off on those crazy journeys, you can forget it!"

Crazy indeed Ash's journeys could be at times. But there was always an upswing to them, a rewarding experience for any trouble brewing on his path to reach his goals. However, Ash was thankful to say that hardly any problems arose on his way home. Besides accidently losing his lunch to a pair of sneaky Rattata a few days ago, things had gone smoothly for him.

And he couldn't wait to share all his positive tales with his loved ones.

He passed by a couple other familiar businesses and residents, sharing equally pleasant smiles and hellos with the other townsfolk. After traveling to so many different cities in various regions, not one of them could compare themselves to Pallet. The quaint town had its own unique secure environment Ash could not explain but love. If one was born and raised there, one would understand quite clearly without exchanging a single word about it.

And that was a fact.

A smile inched its way into larger growth as Ash's steps slowed up incredibly, finally standing outside his destination.

The _Butterfree Inn_ was like a second home to Ash, an establishment his grandparents owned, in which he had to entertain his younger self while his mother was busy working between desk work and in the kitchen. But he never minded. Seeing as so many trainers stopped by to rest there, Ash was able to catch glimpses of various Pokémon at a young age, possibly playing a part in his adoration for the amazing creatures.

Walking briskly in, Ash marveled at the inside interior.

The decor sure had changed considerably since his last visit; wallpaper being updated, cabinets and the staircase refurnished, and it looked as if the rugs had been replaced as well. But the warm feeling of home hadn't dissipated at all.

Nor had the front desk been moved.

Ecstatically, Ash made his way to the check-in area, only to find no one. That didn't shock him, considering how busy the business was, especially during lunch, and well, it would just make his early arrival all the more of a bigger surprise.

Soon Ash leaned over the counter playfully, smiling mischievously as he rang the bell on the desk. From there, he drummed his fingers excitedly on the wood, wondering who would rush to the counter for his assistance. The squeak Pikachu gave away, though, alerted the trainer as to who it was. Ash's grandmother, Leah, about let out a delighted shriek as she came around the corner, but quickly resisted the urge as Ash pressed a finger to his lips. Leah smiled back playfully, nodding as if she understood his intentions.

Still, she couldn't resist the happiness she felt of seeing her beloved only grandson again.

"I'm looking for a Delia Ketchum," Ash explained jokingly once she walked behind the desk as if she was helping an average costumer. "Ya seen her around?"

Leah's smile softened with an affirmative nod. "I will get her for you." Walking away, she rounded the corner again and loudly yelled for her daughter, hoping it would force her to emerge out of the kitchen, though she knew Delia was busily occupied back there. "Oh, Delia! You have a _special_ someone here to see you."

The older woman could hear her daughter's feet once they reached the door, and her voice rose with pure curiosity, not catching on at all. "A special someone?" Delia repeated, looking at her mother, and Leah led her to where the person stood waiting. "I wonder who it could-"

Then she saw him.

In one big grin, Delia about felt tears of happiness slide down her cheek as she caught sight of a young, strapping but familiar messy-haired teenage boy standing before her. _He_ was home, finally home! "Oh, my baby! My baby! You're home!"

Ash chuckled lightheartedly, bracing himself. "Hi, Mom."

Her arms were wide open as she approached Ash, quickly enveloping him in an unbreakable motherly hug. "O_ooh,_ I've missed you so much, Ash!"

"Mom, you're squeezing me too tight!"

Even with puberty settling in and building nicely defined muscles, Ash swore his mother's strong bear-hugs had not diminished at all in tightness. Especially for a small-boned woman herself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey!" Delia quickly apologized, drawing back. Her silly smile beamed with slight embarrassment, but it immediately washed away at the sight of the mouse perched on top of her son's left shoulder. "And how could I forget you, Pikachu?"

Pikachu's eyes lit up. "Pika, Pikachu!"

"How you've been, sweetie?" she asked, scratching underneath the mouse's chin. "Has Ash been feeding you as well as he eats?"

In return Pikachu cooed happily at her question, enjoying every ounce of attention. Ash laughed a little at his mom's remark, and beamed up at his upbeat friend. "Hehe, no worries, Mom. Pikachu always gets his meals and my table scraps."

He still hadn't outgrown wearing a hat, and at this rate Delia didn't think he ever would. However, he had grown significantly in height. He was now his mother's height, and Delia swore it was only a matter of time before he'd tower over her. Ash was truly maturing into a handsome young man, and she couldn't expect any less. He was gleaming so radiantly like his absent father, and seeing him with that big silly grin, not understanding Delia's bittersweet expression, only furthered to tug on her heart strings.

"I can only imagine," Delia replied back wittily, giving Pikachu one last pat on the head before moving her hand away. Then, her gaze shifted back to her son. "As happy as I am to see you two, I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon."

"I caught an early boat ride, train, and once Pikachu and I hit Viridian there was no stopping us from running. We've missed ya, Mom," Ash blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head. "And Pallet."

"Well, I am so, _so_ happy to have you both back home-"

"Did I hear Ash? Is he really here? Oh, he is!"

Once Delia wrapped Ash up in her embrace, Leah had disappeared to go fetch Michelle, who was equally tickled pink to see Ash home at last. A close family friend to the Parker and Ketchum family, she had become like a third grandmother to Ash. And another family member who he couldn't help but love for their renowned culinary skills.

"Uh- hey, Michelle!" Ash greeted in return as Leah and she joined them. "Long time no see."

"Long time no see, it is!" Michelle replied, placing her hands on her hips. "We haven't heard from you in months!"

To have three mother-figures dotting over one like one was a prince of a faraway land would be what most would consider fortunate. However, Ash sometimes felt as if he was a little _too_ fortunate.

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. Sometimes I just get so wrapped up in my training I forget to call."

Typical Ash response.

This wasn't the first time he received a lecture from any of the women, and while he knew that they were teasing him half of the time and understood his situation, Ash couldn't help but feel bad for his habit of not calling. It wasn't as if he didn't want to call, it was just that he would let his proper manners slip, or in other instances, he simply needed some time to himself. Some independence. Yet with independence came responsibility, and as a growing teenager Ash would occasionally falter in that department.

But Delia and the others knew that all too well, and of course, accepted it as such. She could read Ash like a book, and the sheepish expression of knowing he was guilty of something unintentionally or not was always a dead giveaway. After all, Ash was never swift at hiding his emotions whether it was him drawing on the walls at age three or accidently breaking the structure of one of his bunk beds from jumping at age ten. Or forgetting to return phone calls at age _sixteen_.

"Well, try to call more often, dear, because we miss having you around," said Leah, a sly smile seeping from her lips as she eyed with a wink. "Plus if you stay in one spot long enough, we could actually send you a care-basket."

A care-basket full of nothing but homemade goodies. Ash had been deprived of one of those for too long.

"Yeah, I probably should stick around for those. I do miss all your guys' cooking!" Ash chortled, now thinking about how long it had been since he had a well-prepared, home-cooked meal.

"Well, you will be deprived of it for no longer because your grandma and I will whip up a special lunch while you and your mom catch up," Michelle promised, more than willing to make something. Though, her eyes drifted uncertainly up to her friend, unsure if it was wise to volunteer Leah to cook without her consent. "That is what you were thinking, right?" she asked, biting her lip.

Leah smiled back, without any disagreement. "You've always been able to read my mind, Michelle. Go ahead and relax, you two," she said, gesturing her grandson and daughter towards the dining room.

Ash lowered his eyebrows. "But what about you guys? I wanna catch up with you too."

"Oh, you will at dinner!" Michelle reassured, already beginning to scoot back to the kitchen with Leah. "Just save us a few adventures your mother hasn't already heard."

Both of the women found Ash to be an important individual in their lives, but that was nothing compared to the bond between the mother and son. And more than anything, Michelle and Leah wanted to see the two catch up. After all, they had seen Delia mope for too long in her times of missing her little boy.

Settled on her answer, Ash nodded. "Can do."

With a nod to seal the deal, Michelle bounded through the swinging kitchen doors with Leah behind her, leaving Ash and Delia to venture off to an empty table.

"So uh, the inn looks great, Mom," Ash commented, still in awe by the interior change as they began to walk.

There was no denying that the inn needed to be updated, and with more costumers pouring in the women were able to do just that. Ash could surely see his grandma's and mother's taste cast upon the entire entry room and into the dining hall. Its quaint chic homey-vibe of a French-Country style mixed with antique pieces surely spoke them, and the overall simple vibe of Pallet.

"Thanks, pumpkin," Delia humbly said. "Your grandma and I have done a lot of remodeling in the last year, and we've been getting a herd of tourists because of the new website we put up. And well, Michelle's cooking!"

"You guys finally have a website?"

They reached a table right in front of a recently cleaned window, getting a beautiful view of the flourishing flowers planted out in the front. Most likely Delia's doing.

"Hmhm," the mother nodded, taking a seat across from her son. "It's been bringing in quite the revenue, not to mention a food critic."

Ash almost dropped his hat as he removed it. A _food critic_? "Someone came to review _your_ food?" It was rare to have anyone famous or important in the outside world stroll into their little corner of reality, however it wasn't as if Delia's and the others' cooking didn't deserve to be glorified.

He soon sighed as Pikachu jumped into his lap, already cooing for some of the sugar cubes placed on the table for tea. But Ash absentmindedly dismissed his Pokémon's hunger pains, still flabbergasted over all the dramatic changes in just merely a year of his absence. "Sure looks like I missed a lot..."

His travels, badges, and competitions in leagues were definitely on the top of Ash's priority list. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't dreamt of leaving his reclusive town to go out exploring the world and to see as many wondrous creatures as he could. However, now being a bit older, maybe even a tad wiser, he was starting to appreciate the smaller things in life and understand how good he had it before he left.

And all the memories he left behind.

Seeing her son shift in a guilty state, Delia reached out warmly for his hand. "Don't feel bad about it, Ash," she assured honestly. "You've been out sightseeing, battling- Living your dream!" How else could Delia sum it up? Since Ash could talk, she knew how much Pokémon meant to him, and how much he wanted his future career to revolve around the mysterious beings.

"We'll have plenty of time to catch up. And if you stick around_ longer_ than for a day or two," she continued, trying to lighten the mood as she placed a napkin in her lap, "you might not miss some of the action."

Her words of confidence performed the usual positive trick they did, quickly snapping Ash out of his discourage state and seeing Pikachu was chattering for the sugary treat.

The teenager's grin widened as he grabbed a small handful of sugar cubes.

Ash couldn't agree more with his mother.

* * *

><p>"I still don't understand."<p>

"I told you, I'm not doing this anymore."

_Since when?_ was Drake's initial thought.

And he could hardly take his eyes off of him. _Jayce_...he was really here.

Having his half-brother of five years older waltz to his home island sent an indescribable chill down Drake's spine. They had not seen each other in many years, only communicating rarely through the use of video phone, and even then the calls were sporadic. If anything, Jay usually sent the occasional letter and even if he did phone his little brother it would only be on his birthday or Christmas morning. Nothing more than that.

So to see him sitting beside him at Drake's favorite local bar, appearing so calm and to himself… Jay had aged a great deal since they last spoke. He had noticed his maturing when they talked over the phone, but finally seeing his older brother in person really showed how much he aged. Ten years could really change a person. Ten years on the road, on the _run_ for that matter. It wasn't as if Jay's physical features had worsened, just… changed. He had done something Drake never thought he would, which was letting his hair grow out. Thick wavy midnight locks struck a little above the mid-section of Jay's neck, and it looked as if he gained a bit more muscle mass to his upper body, probably from all the physical activity. Still, it could not compete with the guns Drake had on his arms. Not to mention, how tiredness was blindingly obvious in Jay's eyes, as if it had at last caught up with him. Maybe it was simply due to lack of sleep or food, but Drake had a feeling that the cause of Jay's haggard appearance was something else entirely.

Drake looked oddly at his brother, watching him slurp casually away on his alcoholic beverage. He was still trying to wrap his abrupt presence around his head. "Not doing _this_ anymore? I'm sorry, but have you forgotten _why _you've been doing this-"

"I've found a way out of this mess. Take a look."

As he watched Jay rummage through his pant pocket, Drake's mouth drooped into a confused frown. Why was he appearing so nonchalant, so serene about their encounter, his questions? After all, Jay's departure from Pallet had been a _huge _deal, and that was no understatement. Being caught in part of the predicament, and then listening to his older brother explain why he had to leave home, why he was acting so out of sorts- for Jay to just drop by Pummelo like there were no unresolved issues after all these years was beyond baffling to Drake. And he anticipated anxiously for an answer.

_Why would he come at a time like this? _

Then, without words the answer struck Drake.

Opening up his wallet, Jay shoved his fingers into a leather slot and slammed a card directly in front of his little brother. Drake leaned forward to get a closer look, and had to resist a loud gasp from flying out of his mouth. "Oh, my gosh!" He shook his head a couple of times with a few blinks, amazed by what was presented to him. Drake never dreamed he'd see one! An authentic one that was owned by someone he was close to on top of that. Related to boot!

Adjusting his voice, Drake shot his gaze back at his brother, bearing a silly, stupefied grin. He couldn't decide if he needed to focus on the card or Jay. "Jay, do you realize what you've just accomplished? This is history in the making! Y-you have officially earned the right to be the called the _greatest_ trainer of this decade, maybe even this century!-"

Jay sneered sarcastically, and then he took another gulp of his drink. "You're making me blush."

"This is amazing!" Drake continued, ignoring his older brother's remark. The bombshell was taking its time wearing off. "How did you manage to do this?"

"Honestly I don't know... It just sorta- happened," he summed up, now staring seriously into the half-drunken liquid. "After winning the Indigo League and defeating their Elite Four I thought, why not try winning them all? And somehow, it all worked out."

Somehow it _worked_?

Drake's overly joyful smile slipped back into a frown as he observed Jay casually continue to drink. Making that kind of grandiose achievement wouldn't happen overnight, nor because one 'just felt like it.' Then again, this was Jay who he was talking about, always managing to surpass fellow trainers without a logical explanation other than that he was _highly_ gifted. But to have the highest ranking title a Pokémon trainer could ever dream of reaching… Most would simply give up on the goal or drive themselves mad just attempting to make it come true. So many great trainers who had earned rights as champions failed in ever earning the title 'master'. But not this one.

Drake held his hand out. "Hold on a minute. You seriously just pursued this career that _thousands_ of trainers try to do daily just for kicks?"

Jay shrugged. "If you want to put it that way, sure. It was never my intention to become a master, but after a while I suppose I subconsciously dreamed of it. I mean, it was better use of my time than constantly being on the run from 'you know who'."

You know who indeed.

Drake received a shiver at the mention of the criminal, understanding fully as to why Jay would want to distract himself with something much more fulfilling and...positive.

"I guess you make a good point... Well, congrats!" he finally burst, seeing there was no reason to argue, even though a part of him found it baffling Jay earned the title on such pure luck with hardly any ambition. Still, this was _Jay_ who he was talking about. "A part of me isn't really surprised you pulled this off, then again-"

"It is usually an impossible goal to reach, especially by some thirty-five year old guy who was born and raised in a nowhere town called Pallet."

Drake cocked a smile. "You're the exception of the rule, Jay. Man, I just can't stop staring at this!" the trainer exclaimed once more, shaking his head in awe all over again. "I can't believe I'm holding a Pokémon Master's license, _seeing_ one for the first time!"

"It's the real deal, Drake. All it needs is a stamp of approval by Mr. Goodshow and I will officially be your superior." Jay looked over his shoulder cautiously, and eventually whipped back around in a low careful whisper. He had made that into a habit. "And will you keep your voice down?"

Drake was still stuck on the "I will be your superior" comment. "I don't think it works like that," he said, dismissing Jay's request. "And by the way, have you told anyone about this?"

It was only matter of time Drake asked that question. Jay knew that.

"You and Sam are the only ones who know," he answered. "The league told me to keep it hush-hush, but they said I could announce the news to only _close_ family members as long as it didn't get leaked out to the public."

It made sense, seeing there hadn't been a Pokémon Master in close to fifty years, and such a big announcement should be made during a ceremony of the trainer's home region without spoiling the surprise of the identity of the newly-crowned master.

Yet, Drake found it odd they allowed Jay to tell someone who wasn't exactly related by blood.

"Sam's not technically family-"

"He's close enough," Jay finished, his voice lowered.

Close enough... Close enough to be the substitute till he could reconcile with Delia and his other family members, if ever? Drake figured as much, seeing as he and Sam were the only ones who knew of the predicament. Yet, a part of him felt as if Delia should know, regardless of the situation.

"So that means Delia has no clue," he more so stated than asked, his brows dipping down.

"Now why on earth would I ring her up and tell her after being separated for nearly ten years, Drake?" retorted the newly acclaimed master, giving Drake an incredulous look. "I can just imagine how well that conversation would go."

"Well she's going to find out sooner or later when they hold the ceremony," Drake reminded evenly.

Sooner or later was right.

Time was certainly running out, and Jay hadn't even mentioned yet that the ceremony was to be held sometime in the middle of August, only giving him a few weeks to get there. And being already in the second week of July made him realize that all the more.

"You think I don't know that?" Jay countered. "I've already got a plan spinning in my head anyway. That's partially why I'm here to see you."

Immediately, Drake's face went pale. He wasn't seriously thinking- "Oh, no. Jay, don't tell me you want _me_ to tell her-"

Drake hadn't spoken to Delia in many years either, and being the spawn of an affair between Jay's father and his deceased mother of an islander, didn't make their lives all rosy and peachy. Sure Jay's mom accepted Drake through time and forgiveness, and rekindling happened between her and the boys' father- but it didn't make things any less awkward. And being the only relative knowing of Jay's whereabouts and for him to drop the bomb on his estranged sister-in-law as if it was not out of the ordinary, would be not only out of the blue, but highly uncomfortable. After Jay left Pallet, Drake didn't bother coming around much. He never made his existence known to his half-nephew and since he was always so flaky, Delia never sought for his company.

Whether people accepted him and wanted him to participate more often in family get-togethers, Drake never felt like he fully belonged. Like he was just the thorn in everyone's side.

Sometimes in his eyes, it was best for no one to know of his scandalous existence.

But none of them saw it that way.

"No, no, no! I've got a much better role for you," Jay quickly clarified. His eyes then trailed over to the bartender, who was busy polishing glasses with a cloth. The trainer then looked down at his drink. He needed a refill if he was going to have to explain all of this.

"Hey," he soon called, capturing the worker's attention. The burly bartender stomped over and loomed across the counter, though his tough guy demeanor didn't scare Jay as he casually held up the empty glass in his drink. "Get me another one of these, will ya? And leave off the stupid umbrella."

Whether he knew his remark would tick the bartender off or not, Jay did not care, and saw the worker hold back a roll of his eyes and growl as he snatched the glass away. "Sure thing, buddy," the man replied, repressing the urge to lose his temper. No one paid him enough to deal with picky costumers. "Not like you have the right to order me around. Like you're the Pokémon Master or something for God's sake..."

The slip of his tongue was easily caught by Drake's ear, and whether Jay heard it or not was not shown forth on his face as vividly as his. The last thing either one of them needed was to be booted out of the bar due to a ridiculous order of the removal on an umbrella.

"_Please_ do not get us kicked out of this bar," Drake pathetically begged, eyeing the bartender cautiously. "It's the least prone to attract violent loudmouth alcoholics and bad music."

Jay snorted and wrinkled his forehead in disagreement. "You call this music _good_? I swear if I hear another twang from that ukulele the twitching in my eyebrows will become hideously noticeable..."

Same old Jay yet somehow... different.

"You've- changed," Drake suddenly commented, watching his brother curiously.

Swaying his head over steadily, Jay raised a brow with a peculiar eye. "A good or bad kind of change?"

Drake's smile persisted with a calming nod. "Good."

He seemed more- confident in himself. He didn't know why, he just sensed it. Though Drake supposed ten years on the run would force you to have a little faith, a blinding confidence and strength in yourself. Even when sometimes it caused more trouble than good.

"Well if that's how you feel about my maturity growth, then maybe you won't mind accompanying me."

As he blinked back in confusion Drake's smiled faded. What on earth was Jay talking about?

"Accompany you? To where?"

"I've snagged us a plane ride to Fuchsia City that will be setting off in roughly four hours. From there, we have to travel to the Indigo Plateau in time for the ceremony, and hopefully I will be able to gain the league's trust and fill them in on-" he paused so abruptly that Drake wondered if Jay lost his train of thought. But that was not the case at all.

"Operation TR," Jay at last whispered as he threw a 'you know the code' expression.

And realizing what the code meant automatically sent Drake into a puzzled frenzy. "Wait, hold on minute!" the trainer urged, raising his hands up. "You're throwing too much at me at once!"

"Was I not speaking slowly enough?" Jay snorted with a hint of annoyance. "Ultimately, I'm hoping the league will get me out of this jam. Messing with any member of the Elite Four or the league itself would be a risk Team Rocket might not even want to take. If they believe me, there's no way the authorities won't be involved. They'd _have_ to track them down."

"And you just magically hope this will all wash away and everything will be right as rain?" Drake asked, still stunned by the plan.

"Basically," he replied. "I know it's a stretch, but it's the best option I've got. And to be perfectly honest... I'm tired of running, Drake," Jay finally sighed, fully showing his immense physical fatigue through his voice. "I want to settle down again, have a job, have a _home_, be with my family..."

Jay fell silent for a few moments, contemplating quietly to himself. Then, a bittersweet smile escaped from his lips. "You know I saw his Indigo League match?" he said at last, gazing back at Drake. There was an uneasy shakiness in his blue eyes. And Drake's shook back. "I stopped watching after that because it became too painful for me. All that I've missed- all the hurt that I've caused him... God, that was just six years ago and I can only imagine how much he's matured since then, but seeing him... Knowing I left a six year old boy who morphed into a ten year old made me really see just how much time had passed," Jay continued, looking up, and the smile he once bared was now gone. It was more of a- disappointed and shameful frown.

"Now an additional six years has been added to that distance between us... I miss him, Drake. I miss him _miserably_."

Drake couldn't even begin to imagine. He, himself, was not a father nor even attempted staying in a long-time relationship. While the highly-acclaimed trainer was showered with many gifts, Drake was never great with familial connections. But as gruff and stoic as Jay could be at times, he knew with all his heart that his older brother _was_ a damn good father and husband. After all, hadn't the sacrifice he made been enough proof to justify that?

It must have been pure torture for Jay to see his son, and know there was no way he could safely make contact with him.

"I need to get back to them," Jay declared, his expression morphing back into a confident one. "I can't do this anymore- I just can't. That's why I need your help."

_His_ help. It was a rare occasion for Jay to ask for someone else's help, especially from Drake. However, as permissible as requesting for his little brother's services was, a twinge of uncertainty couldn't help but ride inside of Drake as the proposal wafted in his mind. He wasn't sure whether to say yes or no.

The Indigo Plateau was a long ways away from where they were currently and imagining the various tolls he would take if he agreed to travel back there with Jay made his head spin with great nausea. Heading to Fuchsia by plane was logical, and taking a ferry from there to Cinnabar Island where they would eventually reach the back of Pallet Town, behind the mountains... But Drake assumed that his brother wanted to avoid that quick route altogether considering he left Pallet for a reason. That meant going the long way; heading up through Vermillion, Saffron, and into Cerulean, then right into Mt. Moon... That would be one draining and treacherous journey. Not to mention, how many exhausting weeks it would take to trek to their destination, and with Team Rocket most likely on their trail the entire time...

It wouldn't surprise Drake at all if Giovanni got wind of what Jay was up to, and imagining the result of it made him nearly black out.

But what other choice did his older brother have?

Jay was tired, clearly wiped out with hardly any gusto to make another tedious adventure happen. He wasn't a teenager anymore, filled with abundant youth and exuberance. He was a man now, a man who had proven he could take care of himself in the most dire and dangerous circumstances possible, but had been so rundown from it he wanted to wave a white flag and surrender. This wasn't what he was supposed to be doing with his time; this wasn't how he was supposed to be living his life! Drake knew being a trainer was a big part of Jay, yet being a father and husband was an even bigger and more important portion.

But what was the guarantee anyway that this would work? As much as he wanted to see Jay back home and for this whole issue to be resolved, was it honestly worth the risk? Was their _safety _worth it? Was it worth wasting his vacation time? His _sanity_?

There was a heavy amount of indecision riding inside of Drake, fighting with his inner self. He felt selfish for not being willing to share his only available free time; _then again_, this idea could turn out to be a _real_ trap he'd regret in the end. And did Drake even have any energy left to deal with ruthless thugs like Team Rocket? Plus all the stress and anxiety? This was all so last minute, too.

Adjusting his throat, Drake captured Jay's gaze with his own: a serious one that would not tolerate any negotiations. His mind was made up. There were too many bad factors, and he was too stubborn to see the other way. "Listen Jay, I've got a flight in less than_ three_ hours to board to Valencia Island. I'm not going to miss my chance for some quality _alone_ time, my _vacation _time, to go some crazy adventure!"

Jay just stared at him for a moment, wearing that poker face that Drake could never crack. He couldn't tell whether his older brother was upset with his definite decision or not. Jay was always gifted at hiding his emotions, for better or for worse. Every time he sat or stood pondering to himself, wallowing in his own concerns or dreams, Drake was never quite able to figure what Jay was exactly thinking about.

Keeping to himself was something Drake believed to be a learned behavior. But now more than ever, it appeared as if Jay was born with his reclusive nature.

At last, Drake's startled expression broke as Jay finally released a shrug. "Suit yourself."

Acting like his little brother's decline didn't matter, he leaped up from his chair and left the payment on the counter for the bartender. From there Jay shoved his hands into his pant pockets, turning to Drake, who was still seated. "But you know in the back of your mind you will be beating yourself up for not coming along. Especially if something _happens_ to me," Jay managed to smirk.

Drake just huffed, and cocked a sarcastic eye. "You've survived this long on your own."

"It was worth a shot. Have a nice vacation, Drake."

A casual wave leaped from his fingertips as Jay began to stroll away, once again not showing as if it all mattered to him. Yet this time Drake felt that it did, and he didn't need Jay to pout or get angry with his refusal to realize that.

Swiveling back in his seat, Drake starred into his barely touched drink. Thinking. Long and hard about everything. Weighing out the pros versus the cons, and what was more important. His precious vacation time or a chance for his older brother to have his life back.

He should have thought about it more carefully before he opened his big mouth.

It was the perfect opportunity for Jay to strike back, there was no denying that. However, was it really as flawless and likely to work as it sounded? Drake didn't think so, and he was surprised his usually methodical brother was confident enough to jump on the bandwagon. Taking a step back and imagining himself in Jay's shoes did change the trainer's perspective somewhat- laying out the whole scenario, trying to comprehend the feelings of anger, sadness, and loss his brother had lived with, was _still _living with... Then there was the reminder of two souls who had been forced to live in darkness, and believe in only the worst of the man who 'betrayed them.' To think of the burden and the guilt Jay had to be carrying... Maybe his desperation and riskiness made- _sense_.

And _maybe _Drake was being a tad selfish. His needs were petty compared to Jay's after all...

At that moment, he wanted to groan so badly. Jay didn't even bother making him feel adamant about his decision, and here was Drake, ready to turn himself in for being a horrible brother. Looking at the whole picture with a clear mind- there was no other answer but the one Drake didn't like.

But he accepted it, anyway.

Not much time passed before Drake jumped out of his seat, hurrying to the front door of the bar. If they made out of this safe and sound, Jay was going to owe him big time. Heck, maybe the Orange League Division would give him extra vacation time if this mission pulled off without a hitch!

Swinging the door wide open, Drake found Jay already wandering to the sidewalk. "Jay!" he called out, rushing down the steps. "Jay, wait."

Drake's holler worked, stopping Jay in his tracks and soon he beamed over his shoulder. "So you've changed your mind, huh?"

He figured he'd crack.

Drake's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. "If I come along with you, there are going to be some terms."

Terms. Jay expected as much.

"Shoot," the master said.

"One: The moment we reach the Indigo Plateau and I _know_ you're safe and sound, I _will_ relax for the rest of my well-spent vacation on Valencia Island." If there was any left at all for that matter. That thought brought a cringe to Drake, but he shrugged it off as he persisted assertively. "Two: I'm _not_ getting involved in your martial issues. It's your and Delia's business, and if I must vouch for your absence as legitimate, then I will. But that's _it_. I'm no therapist who can mend these sort of- estranged relationships."

A scoff was returned as Jay's cheeky smile grew. "You just don't want her mad at you."

"And _three_: God forbid if we somehow_ die_ from all of this," he carried on, now pursuing the worst case scenario, "I would prefer not being laid to rest in the annex with Aunt Maude. I know I'm only 'half' of the 'pristine Ketchum line,' but I will not be placed there. Not over _my dead_ _body_. And there is no pun intended on that last part!" Drake threw in hurriedly, before his older brother had a chance to make some wise-crack remark.

Great Aunt Maude was one of the few disliked members of the Ketchum family, for her bad jokes and little spark of wit brought that on promptly. Maude never quite comprehended that her jests were terrible. As Jay's mother would sum up so kindly in five words: "She was a complete idiot."

To Drake's surprise, Jay simply shook his head with a sigh. The last term sure wasn't what he was suspecting. "Your ghostly self will have to take that one up with Mom," his brother said, with a shrug. "Though at the rate I'm going, I'm sure I'm going to be the one sharing that less desirable resting place with crazy Aunt Maude."

* * *

><p>Ash kept himself occupied while he waited for the day to draw to a close.<p>

He kept tabs on the front desk, while Delia gave extra support to Michelle in the kitchen, and reprieve Leah of standing for so long. Though as the hours drew closer to evening, Leah shooed Delia and Ash out, telling them to go on and head for her house for dinner, and that she and Michelle would arrive in an hour or so to join them. So the mother and son duo left them to their own devices, and were more than thrilled to exit the business for the day.

Not to mention, Ash was still electrified enough to find elation in seeing his grandfather Ernest again. His grandparents' cherished farm had greatly influenced his love and respect for Pokémon, and he was always fascinated with his findings on the slice of Heaven every time he willingly (or sometimes unwillingly) traveled across the dirt road to lend a hand.

Another burst of warm fuzzy feelings of home soared through the trainer as he and Delia took their first step up the Parkers' front porch. Everything looked the same on the outside. Wide open fields with Tauros predominately roaming free, the barn for the Rapidash looking as rustic and red as ever, the Miltank slowing down for the day before crawling into their hay ridden beds, and the front door with a loose hinge that Leah had been pestering Ernest for years to fix…

Everything looked the same yet- something felt a little different inside Ash as he gawked at his surroundings.

He brushed them off rather quickly, though, as he and his mother invited themselves in, and what he was about to discover would truly throw him for another loop.

"Hey, look who it is!"

"Hi, Ash!"

Ash's mouth dropped open as Delia closed the door behind them, stupefied to see the person standing before him working away on dinner.

"Dani?-"

Before he could delve into asking why his cousin was in the neighborhood, Ash was smothered to the floor by a pair of elderly Jolteon, who even for their age still had enough vigor to greet him with full-hearted barks and licks. "Hey, you guys!" He laughed faintly to himself as he pet the old mutts, Pikachu just barely balancing on his shoulder from all the commotion. "This is some welcoming party! I guess you both really missed me!"

Ash knew for a fact that he was missed dearly by his family, but he didn't think they'd all (including the family's pet Pokémon) give him a big "welcome home" considering this wasn't the first time he ventured away from Pallet.

The nudging and pawing Ash received from the electric dogs didn't last long as a pair of familiar feet stomped over to him, commanding the Jolteon to heal. "Rex, Fly! Get off of him!"

They hurriedly obeyed without resistant by Ernest's command, and soon the gruff farmer lent out a hand to his fallen grandson.

"Uh thanks, Grandpa," Ash said, rising to his feet.

"No problem, sport," Ernest replied, straightening out his back. "You look like you're doin' well."

"Thanks, you too. I wasn't accepting such a welcome, and I wasn't accepting Dani either," the trainer added, his eyes peeling over in astonishment at the girl.

Dani was two years older than him, and while they were in the same age range he always found her to be more of an adult than an actual teenager. The only thing that made him feel older than her was that he was now taller. But intellectually that was another story altogether. Overall, Dani was a big sister in a sense, someone he could talk to when she and her mom came to visit, and while Gary and the other neighborhood boys were giving him grief for, well, just- everything.

But Dani never minded being a role model for him; actually, she quite liked helping others and took pride in carrying herself with both humility and respect. Her hair had grown out to shoulder length, the wavy lavender lockets she earned from Leah's side gracing around her face, but her smile and bubbly voice hadn't changed.

"Neither were we when she first came. But isn't it nice? Now I don't have to worry about fixin' a meal when your grandma's workin' late."

_That_ was a blessing to all.

"Grandma called and told me you were here, so I started working away on dinner!" Dani exclaimed from the kitchen, leaning over the counter to get a glimpse of Ash.

Ash's eyes widened at her. "Whoa, you made dinner?" The teenager journeyed over quickly, witnessing the display of food Dani had prepared all on her own. Green beans with garlic, roasted potatoes and carrots, and even a whole roast! Granted, it was small, but it sure was a big step in Dani's attempt at cooking. Ash shot a wrinkled forehead while Pikachu sniffed the fragrant air in delight. "Since when do you know how to cook?"

"Since your mom showed me," she answered, now grabbing glasses from one of the top cabinets.

Ash's expression only furthered to dramatic levels. "You've been hanging out with _Mom_?"

"Only on occasion when I come to visit. Now you and Aunt Delia go ahead and sit down," she commanded, more than wanting them to take a rest and for her to serve up her hard work. "I've got almost everything ready."

At the waving of her hand, Ash's eyes shifted to the table. Everything was set. Plates, napkins, silverware, and a subtle floral table cloth lying right underneath it all. Dani sure went to town to make everything look well presented.

Filling up a lined basket, Dani stretched her reach towards her grandfather. "Grandpa, would you do the honors of carrying the rolls in?"

Ernest smiled back humbly, playing along. "It would be my honor."

And it would be Ash's honor to take the first helping.

The teenager eye's glimmered as the rolls were settled near him and Delia's end of the table. If there was one thing Ash hadn't grown out of it was a vivacious appetite, and he proved so by snatching a serving of the homemade bread.

Ash tore a piece off and popped it into his mouth. "So how long have you've been here, Dani?"

Dani slipped a smile and roll of her eyes, knowing what caused his muffled words. "A couple of weeks. I was wrapping up with some courses in Viridian."

"What courses?"

Dani made a face. "Didn't your mom tell you?"

It was then that both teenagers swept their attention over to a dazed Delia. Feeling their eyes upon her, she broke out of her quiet train of thought, and shook her head. "Oh, I guess it slipped my mind! Honey, Dani's been training to be a Pokémon breeder."

"Really?" Ash raised his eyebrows. "That's amazing! But I thought you just wanted to be a trainer?"

"I did, but over this last year I started to realize that I enjoyed raising Pokémon more so than actually battling," Dani began to explain, handing both of them filled glasses of chilled water. "I mean, I'm a decent battler, but I felt as if taking care of Pokémon and learning about them was more of my calling. You know it's like this- inner feeling you get. I don't know," she shrugged, struggling with her words. "It's hard to explain."

Even if it was difficult for Dani to relay her reasoning of switching up her career to others, Ash understood. Trial and error was a part of anything one did, and experimenting in the Pokémon field came with that possibility. He had known plenty of other trainers who changed their dream after coming to grips that they had a greater fondness for something else. Brock, being one that stood out in his head immediately. Though he himself never thought he'd ever steer away from battling. At least he thought so.

"No, I get it," Ash said honestly. "I'm happy for you. I think you'll do great as a breeder."

"Thanks. And I've heard you haven't been doing too bad yourself."

Her sly eye made him laugh a little. Delia must have been boasting about him again. Harmless as it was, and he admittedly_ liked_ the attention now and again, he did find it kind of embarrassing when Delia gushed over him. Then again, he was so used to it by now he did his best to overlook her innocent, motherly tendencies. After all, Ash was her "little boy."

Ash flushed his embarrassment away. "Oh yeah, actually I- Huh?!" Though he lost his train of thought promptly. Emerging from the back door near the kitchen appeared none other than Mr. Mime, holding a broom that looked like it just suffered from a few vigorous sweeps. Apparently, he was cleaning the back porch, but why on earth was he at Ash's grandparents' house? "Hold on!" the teenager shouted, gawking at the Pokémon in confusion. "W-what's Mr. Mime doing here?"

"I asked the same question."

All their gazes were focused on Ernest, who was glaring with great hostility at the mime dusting off his feet on the doormat. He never liked Mr. Mime, and he never would. No matter how genuinely helpful and friendly the creature was.

He was just plain- _annoying_.

"Oh Dad, stop!" Delia ordered sharply, flashing irritated chestnut eyes at him. Ernest simply in return just huffed and mumbled something incoherent to their ears, and Delia didn't see the point in starting a fruitless argument that was really over well- nothing.

So she drew her attention back to a still lost and inquisitive Ash. "You see, Ash, Grandma's been so busy at the inn that I offered Mimie to come over and pick up some of the slack around the house. Of course, she has to keep reminding Rex and Fly that he's not an_ intruder_."

As dense as Ash could be at times, he didn't need to ponder over that one to know whose fault that was.

"I beg to differ," Ernest grumbled, carrying more of the finished dishes over to the table.

Ash blinked at his mother momentarily, processing the news. "Oh, that makes sense. But what about you, Mom? Don't you still need the help?"

There was a twinkle in Delia's eyes, and the rascally smile seeping from her lips only spelt bad news for him. There was a catch. "I already have that taken care of. Since Mr. Mime is helping Grandma, I thought a certain sixteen year old wouldn't mind picking up the slack around the house _he _lives in from time to time."

Ash already promised Delia he'd stay for a while when they were having lunch, and a couple of weeks was the compromise. But after being home for just a few hours and seeing all the changes, all the faces he missed- maybe he wanted to stay _longer_ than just two weeks. However, the chores now made his stay _very_ unappealing.

Just thinking about all the extra work Mr. Mime did around the house and outside in the yard…Man, was Ash going need to install his allowance again- or better yet, take that part-time job Greta had been offering for quite some time. That would do the trick.

Ash released a nervous grin as he stuffed his cheeks with another bite of a roll. "Uh- we'll see."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

And there you have chapter one folks! There should be no surprise how long my chapters can get, and just be ready that there are more of those lengths to come. As I have been with every other installment, I am committed to finishing this fanfic whether it takes a year or more. Unless of course serious issue arises- then I would let you all know. Though, I cannot promise you it will be updated as often as my works have in the past. More has been added to my plate, but I will try my best to get updates out to you all. :)

I promise the pace will pick up shortly, and that we will delve more into Ash's feelings on traveling again or staying home for a little while. ;) Plus, a whole slew of familiar faces are on their way! Just wait and see!

Thank you all for taking the time to read the first chapter and as always, reviews are very much appreciated. :)


	2. No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

Here it is my devoted readers! I'm so sorry it took longer than usual. Since I posted the first chapter, I've been seriously swamped and barely have enough time to myself. This was written in between the free time I did have, and I'm afraid that I won't have much time to be on here regularly the next couple of months with school starting up. Of course I will update when I can (and will do my best to post once a month), but I don't really have time to be on here much. Sorry guys. But college comes first!

Thank you though to all who reviewed chapter one and for sticking through my series. It was great to hear your feedback, and I relished it all. :)

Now please enjoy chapter two! I promise things will start moving along shortly, but like my past works, I don't like to rush my work. I like to make it flow evenly with a buildup of drama and action that is logical with a pace. Even if that means long chapters, and a total of twenty-plus.

**DISCLAIMER: **_Pokémon_ belongs to Satoshi Tajiri and _Jane Eyre_ belongs to Charlotte Bronte. However, my oc's belong to me.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunlight's Return<strong>

**Chapter 2**

_"No Place Like Home"_

The seat Drake had Randy snag for him was nothing compared to what the league had in store for his brother.

First class seats they were, of the highest quality, and the best food an airline could offer. However, the higher class of seating didn't change the atmosphere too drastically. Drake made several attempts to dose off, but the constant wailing of a child behind them and the bickering of the toddler's wealthy parents on how the husband accidentally bought tickets for the wrong island and when they would get home they would iron out the mess and evict that co-worker he was secretly seeing-

It reminded the trainer too much of home.

Jay on the other hand gave up sleeping all together, and stared long and hard at the back of the seat in front of him. He was wearing that expression again; that gaze that was made of the hardest metal, like a shield a gallant warrior would use in a great battle to protect himself from the scorching flames of a dragon.

God only knew what he was thinking about.

"How much longer do you think it'll be till we land?" Drake piped up, his eyes vividly deprived of rest.

Jay kept staring ahead. "Don't know. But if we make a stop somewhere, I hope _they _get off," his tone implying heavily of the people behind them.

Unless the abhorrent couple's destination was at the bottom of the ocean, the brothers would be stuck with them till they arrived in Fuchsia. Which was hopefully drawing close, considering all other close landings were long gone.

"I think we passed all the islands," Drake noted somberly.

Jay grimaced. "Wonderful."

Silence fell upon them again, and Drake was back to twiddling his thumbs awkwardly, not knowing what to do or say. It wasn't as if Jay was trying to strike up conversation. Then again, their lack of a goodnight's rest probably wasn't helping. Not to mention all the running around and staying awake his older brother did on a regular basis. It was no wonder Jay was so cranky and intolerable of his surroundings.

So recognizing that, Drake tiredly attempted to lighten the mood. "So... what was it like?" he asked, trying to form his question to where it made halfway sense. "You know, meeting all the Elite Four members and the attention. You've hardly talked about it."

Jay's focus finally broke and trailed over to Drake with a slight shift in his serious expression. "It was fine. I mean, they're just like you and me, Drake. You out of all people should understand that."

"I _know_." Sounding like a rabid fan was not what the acclaimed trainer meant at all. "What I'm trying to say is- do you feel any different now that you're- _one_ of them?"

One of them. It honestly hadn't fully sunk into Jay's thick skull.

He didn't feel any more special than anyone else; though one could suppose that was the humble streak, the introvert he was showing through. He did know he was capable of being a decent trainer, that much he was aware of regardless to his ability. But to be the very best- he never liked to boast. And when he did, it was done jokingly. Never once in his childhood did anyone in his family ever make him _feel _important, that his best was good enough, or that his gifts deserved to be mentioned and to have a shot at a full bloom…outside sources: people he befriended, admired, loved- they were the ones who made him feel worthwhile.

_She_ made him feel that way.

"If you mean has my ego inflated, then no, not really," Jay at last answered. He was now looking out the clouded small window, with his elbow propped on an arm rest, watching the massive downy clouds with the return of the unreadable gaze. "If anything, this has been a blessing in disguise."

Drake understood that perfectly.

Ash and Delia were always on Jay's mind, and finally gaining an opportunity to see them again, possibly ending this wild goose chase thanks to his skills as a trainer, was something Drake knew Jay cherished over the damn title. Even if it was a _huge _honor. His heart was beginning to swell with excitement and longing, but his head told him otherwise, shoving down the hopes with his methodical tendencies. If Jay had learned anything, it was not to get his hopes up. At least not too high.

But he could always dream.

"Do you know how many of them we should be watching out for?" Drake suddenly asked, changing the conversation. That question had been bothering him since they boarded the plane. But it wasn't as if Jay was suspiciously looking around every corner as if someone was following them.

"A good dozen," Jay answered, comprehending what his brother was insinuating. "But I haven't had a run-in in weeks."

Drake lowered his eyebrows. His stomach did a somersault out of genuine nerves of worry. "What do you think that means?"

"Probably that they lost my trail. Don't know. But I'm not going to hold my breath," Jay said, his eyes shifting into another unreadable look. Though Drake didn't need his facial expressions to give him clues.

"They'll come and find us," his brother continued. "Just you wait."

* * *

><p>That morning felt more refreshing to Delia than it had in months.<p>

She supposed it was thanks to a certain sixteen year old sleeping the morning away upstairs; her smile sprang with motherly joy at the thought of her son's visit.

_He really has grown up, _she thought, flipping over the final flapjacks she whipped up for breakfast. _It feels just like yesterday when he left. I can't believe how fast time has gone by!_

Time certainly had flown by, so fast it almost made Delia cry bittersweet tears. The mother could still imagine her son eagerly waiting for his breakfast, wolf it down, and hurry outside to explore the nearby streams for flopping Magikarp. Well, Delia could bet her money that Ash would still do that, only he wouldn't go looking for Magikarp but Pokémon much more exciting. Though, he obviously still had a habit of sleeping in lazily, and his insistence of keeping his hair an unruly cut. But she wouldn't want him any other way. Those attributes made Ash him, and made him magnetic to all. He was, Delia thought, still her sweet, sensitive, and caring boy she raised. But as they conversed over dinner last night... Delia had noticed something.

Ash had matured.

It wasn't a total transformation overnight, nor was his change in behavior bad. It was actually- pleasing. He seemed more settled, less insecure, and with that, more willing to share his concerns. Ash was definitely more comfortable in his own skin. Delia had known good and plenty on how difficult it was for Ash in school, focusing on his homework, and then of course Gary adding to more of the drama... She was glad that they were both able to find some peace, to move on in a sense even still with that empty presence in their life. Delia would be lying if she claimed it wasn't challenging...but it wasn't impossible either. Both she and Ash had proven that. And hearing from her son on his grand travels, seeing him face to face – it made Delia feel twice as stronger.

Because she knew she had a purpose to keep going.

However, Delia had to admit she was feeling a tad lonely around the house. Oh, the bouts of enduring such a depressing feeling came around on certain times of the year more than others, and it had become more and more natural for the woman to live alone, yet-

It was beyond wonderful to have Ash home like old times, making it all the more important to savor their moments together. And just like the old times, it was only a matter of time before the scent of breakfast would waft through the house and straight through the crack between Ash's bedroom door and the hallway floor.

And for him to appear at the end of the staircase.

"Hey, are those pancakes I smell?" the woman heard her son say in the living room, followed through with a loud yawn.

"_Blueberry_ pancakes," Delia informed, smiling over her shoulder.

She could see he had just woken up, having a head full of bed-hair and still clothed in his pajamas. Pikachu too appeared tired as he slumped himself slothfully on Ash's shoulder, still in the process of shaking off the morning haze. Though the mouse wasn't given much time, for his trainer bounded beside his mother excitedly out of his drunken slumber walk, letting his nostrils take in the full scent of the fruit-filled treat. It was clear they must have had a restful night of sleep from their sudden rebound of liveliness, for Ash and even Pikachu's soft snores could not hide from Delia's keen ears during the night. And now here they were, both drooling over the food before them.

"Whoa, thanks Mom!" Ash exclaimed, already grabbing the plate Delia laid out for him on the counter. "But uh, you don't have to go to all this trouble."

Delia's smiled widened at her son's consideration. "I know, honey, but I wanted to. After all, you're still my little man-"

"Ah, c'mon Mom!" he suddenly groaned like a typical teenager. "Do you _have_ to call me that?"

Delia couldn't help but burst out a chuckle. "I'm sorry, honey. It's just you're my baby. My _only_ baby."

"Well, could you at least call me your big man?"

It might not have made the nickname sound less stupid, but Ash would have at least preferred to be treated the age he actually was.

"I won't call you that till you get a car and have a job," his mother retorted playfully, serving up the final pancakes onto a plate she had covered with a cloth to keep warm. "Which I don't think either is going to happen any time soon."

Ash had other ideas. He had been thinking about driving- maybe not a job, but cruising in a sweet ride sure would be a bonus. Just as big of a bonus as having a scrumptious pancake breakfast.

"_Grandpa_ said he'd teach me how to drive-"

"And believe me, you_ don't_ want him as your teacher," Delia hastily interrupted, turning off the burner and placing the hot skillet on a cool one. "Take it from someone who_ did_ have him as one."

Ash caught on to this quickly, trying to imagine his mom as a sixteen year old girl and Ernest with a full head of hair. From what he could gather, it probably wasn't a pretty picture, considering it involved a short-tempered Ernest and a ditzy Delia, with only winning the Pallet Town Fair with her prized Miltank, Raspberry, on her mind as well as what shade of lipstick she should wear on her next date night. Ash knew how much Ernest hated it when Delia refused to sell her marketable heifer or when the fantasizing of Jay distracted her so much she ended up accidentally denting the fender of his truck. But _he_ wouldn't get that easily distracted. Not about Pokémon or girls... Or at least he hoped.

Finally, Ash spoke. "He cussed and yelled a lot, didn't he?" he deduced more so than questioned.

Delia nodded with a sigh. "Like always." It probably didn't help, though, that Delia had to learn with a stick-shift and a truck that decided to shut off in the middle of the road- thankfully, a not-so-busy road. Nevertheless, that was something she didn't want her son to go through. "But don't worry Ash, I'll teach you soon enough. Actually, if you decide to stay a little longer we could go out for a few drives around town."

"Really?" Ash's eyes widened eagerly. "That would be great, Mom!" Delia was definitely not one for hollering; after all, she had the patience of a saint. And as long as the childish pet names wouldn't be used while he was driving, then there was no reason to refuse. Then again, staying longer in Pallet meant- "But do I still have to do chores, too?"

He wasn't going to get out of work _that_ easily.

"Oh course, silly," Delia retorted, though it wasn't her intention to spoil all of Ash's fun. "But don't fret, you will have plenty of time to train or do whatever you want." Switching her gaze from Ash taking his stacked plate to the table, Delia fixated on the clock pinned on the wall above the kitchen table. Time was already getting away from the hardworking mother.

Delia's smile shrank, but she kept it all the same. "Now I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've gotta run off to work. And speaking of chores..." Her eyes lingered back to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Then her sweet smile grew sheepishly. "Would you mind cleaning up the kitchen for me before you go to Prof. Oak's?"

Ash sighed. He figured as much. "Sure, Mom." There was no point in arguing. It was the least he could do after the nice surprise she had made for his already rumbling gut.

Sweeping by, Delia reached for her purse dangling on one of the dining table chairs. "You and Pikachu enjoy."

"Thanks." Ash's fingers reached excitedly for his healthy helping of pancakes. "I'll meet you at the inn later," the teenager said, loading his plate.

"Okay. Have a good morning, sweetie!"

Ash caught his mother's wave with a similar goodbye motion in return as she reached the front door.

"You too. Bye."

And so, the door clicked shut. Even with the dishes needing a good cleansing, Ash was more than appreciative to have a hardy breakfast that he wouldn't always get on the road. Especially when he wasn't with his traveling companions- Brock or Cilan in particular. Besides, as amazing as their cooking was, it was still nothing like Delia's. Not that hers was "top-notch" but because the comfort food truly brought a level of exceptional dining that no one else could master. The taste, the smell, the presentation- it all reminded Ash of home and what it felt like _to be_ home again. No one but his mother could master that. Looking at his pancakes slapped with a thin slice of melting butter on top, Ash soon realized he had missed this feeling for a long time.

How pleasant it was to be still, to be in a place that was a sanctuary to him.

With a relaxed expression, Ash's eyes traveled to his stacked plate. From there, he gleamed at Pikachu, who had jumped off his shoulder cueing his master that his bowl on floor was in need of being refilled. Instead, Ash formed a cheeky grin. "You don't want pokechow, do ya, buddy?" he asked, grabbing one of the flabby pieces of carbs and soon crouching.

Pikachu's eyes lit up as Ash dangled the food in front of him. Then, Ash's sparkled mischievously. "You want _pancakes_."

* * *

><p>What Ash didn't foresee, though, as he went about his merry way, was that three pairs of eyes were peering at him through the kitchen window. The figures camouflaged themselves cleverly in Delia's perfectly-trimmed shrubs, and began gushing at the teenager's mouthwatering meal.<p>

"Ooo, Pancakes! I could go for some right now-"

"James, focus!"

The firm slap on the back of the head broke James out his fixated gaze, though he shot his partner-in-crime a sharp look. "Well, excuse me if we haven't eaten in three days!" he griped, rubbing his now sore noggin as he landed on his behind. "Don't act as if you're not hungry too, Jess."

"Of course I'm starving!" the magenta haired woman groaned. "I'm not only starving for food, but beauty rest, as well! Look at my face!" she continued dramatically, placing her hands on her cheeks. "I swear I'm getting wrinkles!"

"Wouldn't matta if ya got all da sleep in da world," their feline companion snorted. "Ya'd still look da same."

Jessie formed a glare on cue, gritting her teeth as her hands morphed into clenched fists. "Would you like to be turned into the boss's personal throw rug, you mangy fur ball?"

"It's not as if you twos wouldn't be mounted on dis wall," Meowth shrugged, used to Jessie's sudden life-altering threats.

"Meowth does have a point, Jessie," James dared to throw in, his eyes gazing glumly down at the grass beneath them. "We haven't caught a single Pokémon! Not even on our entire trip following the twerp back home! Oh, I just don't want to even think about going back there," he soon declared, his eyes shaking as they lingered up, implying the mountains beyond the town. Where they were _supposed_ to report back. "There will be shouting, and insults, and possible projectiles being thrown at us-"

"No need to fear, you two," Jessie suddenly reassured, regaining her confidence. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve before we have to report back to the boss."

"And how is dis plan goin' to pan out?" Meowth asked sourly. "Because all I smell is failure."

Failure and their own stench. They were in desperate need of hot showers. Especially after trying to follow Ash back to Pallet through a rain storm and ending up in the middle of a mud slide. Even without trying, that oblivious twerp always managed to throw a wrench into their plans. And in this case, in their hair. Jessie, in particular, still had dirt-clods in her long, luxurious locks. And she wasn't through complaining about it, either.

"We'll start smelling victory and maybe even _money."_

"Money?" James repeated, blinking up at Jessie. "How are we going to get any of that? You just said we aren't going back to Headquarters-"

"I don't mean from the boss. I _mean_ from the twerp's mom."

"His mom?" Meowth perked up.

James blinked again. "I don't quite follow."

What did Delia have to do with any of this? Last time James checked, he deduced Jessie couldn't stand being around the twerp's mom. She was, in the simplest way to explain, annoying to the female Rocket grunt, though her being usually out to lunch was convenient for them when needing to ambush the twerp and his friends. Still, her sickeningly sweet personality was equal to something of the "Sugar Plum Fairy" or a princess who could call upon animals with one sweet call of her soprano voice. Something that screamed damsel in distress, and Jessie wasn't the kind of woman who needed a man to save her from harm with her good looks to persuade him- though she had to admit it would be nice. To be held in a man's arms with a promising gaze of commitment...

Focusing on the task at hand she had worked on the last couple of days, Jessie started to explain. "James, you and I will pose as workers at that stupid little inn of hers for a couple of weeks."

"And what will we exactly gain from all of this?" he dared to ask.

"Honest to goodness cash _and_ Pikachu. Then once we have the little rodent, we'll go to Headquarters," Jessie summed up, as if it was that simple.

The dastardly trio had learned many times before not to get too excited over their "flawless plan of attack," though usually they ended up doing so anyway. This plan however...it was different. It wasn't as if they hadn't posed as workers before, but never had they tried anything like that in Pallet. Well, there was the time where they dressed up as maids at Ash's other grandparents' home, hoping to capture Pikachu and a collection of fine china and candlesticks. That rich, snobbish grandmother of his was so terribly demeaning when they pretended to work for her- James had nightmares about his past and Jessie had dreams of wanting to strangle her with that pearl necklace around her throat. Nevertheless, that little scheme ended so badly in so many ways, none of them wanted to count it on their never-ending list of defeats.

Still, as unique as this mission sounded, where did that leave-

"Hey, what about me?!"

Jessie's eyes gleamed down at a demanding Meowth, cocking a sly smile. "I have another job for you."

"Like _what_?" Meowth pressed. "I'd better not get da crap end of da stick-"

"Oh no," Jessie got off promptly, waving her hand in reassurance. "I've thought of something that would make you feel more in your element, Meowth. Your _natural_ environment."

The cat watched her closely. "Whada ya mean?"

"You will pose as a stray cat on the Parkers' farm."

Now he had officially been downgraded to a homeless flea-ridden annoyance that most people would rather kick off to the side rather than get cuddly with. Downgraded to what he _originally_ was before siding with the likes of Team Rocket. Only this time, he'd be living in a smelly barn filled with nothing but hay.

"I ain't no barn cat!" Meowth snapped, the fur on his neck standing up.

"Well, start acting like one because for the next few weeks that's all you'll be," Jessie said definitely, not willing to change her mind. "That is, till we nab that farm of theirs, as well."

James couldn't believe where this was going. "You want to try that _again_?"

They had attempted that little act nearly six years ago, and when they did they classically "blasted off again" as usual. Only they weren't just faced with the twerps' Pokémon, but a whole herd owned by the Parker clan... And James was positive he didn't want to risk his hide doing that pointless shenanigan once more.

"_Yes_," Jessie answered, as if it was the most obvious reply in the world, "only this time we'll do it differently."

"How differently?"

"I haven't gotten that far, James!" she shouted, tired of the back and forth questions. "As for right now, we'll do what is set in stone. The rest will come to me. Believe me, I've been thinking about this ever since that awful mudslide," the woman grimaced noticeably.

Jessie wasn't the only one not fully recovered from being drenched in dirt, twigs, and vegetation.

"Yeah, and I still can't get all dose clods out of my fur," Meowth commented, looking at his soiled back.

"Well the dirt will just make you look more authentic," Jessie said, as if it helped the cat's dilemma.

Gulping, James couldn't stand staying quiet. He had his own concerns, and those derived from their last exchange with Giovanni's secretary over the phone, informing the trio that they were in need of_ knowing_ something. "But Jessie, don't you remember the boss wanted to talk to us about something big?" he reminded more so than asked, urgently. "Something _important?_-"

"Oh, he won't miss us if we're a little late. Usually it seems as if he wants to be rid of us," Jessie noted, now thinking about it. But she didn't ponder it too long and soon waved casually. "Besides, this way he'll actually be _pleased_ with what we've done, and he'll forget all about our absence. So what do you say boys? Are you in or _not?_"

It wasn't much of a question through her tone. More like a_ demand_ to agree.

James was feeling conflicted, but persuaded nonetheless.

For once, Jessie's ideas were making somewhat sense. Well, in most instances James would outwardly agree with his partner without fuss, but maybe, just_ maybe_ this would go off without a hitch. The twerp hadn't noticed they were tailing him, nor did anyone in town suspect them of their presence. Plus, Jessie made a point in Giovanni not exactly wondering aimlessly where they were. After all, he told the three he wanted to send them off to Antarctica one time, and when James realized where Antarctica was he got the message rather quickly.

Even if their boss did have some consequential news that could resort in a new mission, it would be best for them to finish what they originally started. To at last successfully swipe Pikachu, and hopefully retry other failed endeavors. With one powerful electric mouse and a whole herd and more of various farm Pokémon, how could it get better than that? Maybe they weren't rare, but James thought his boss would have some use for them. And even if he didn't, it at least showed he, Jessie, and Meowth were capable of_ something_.

And, of course, a good meal and some avoidance of hollering were perks, too.

Eventually, James broke out a smile. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt. As employees at the inn we could get free meals!"

"And I'll have a bigger flea count than I already do," Meowth grumbled, not actually pleased.

Yet James's agreement was enough for Jessie, dismissing anything their feline friend muttered. "Then it's settled! We will apply for work tomorrow!" she declared enthusiastically. "And will at last have Pikachu! _Once. And. For. ALL._"

Jessie's proclamation sure set high stakes for all of them, but she and James in particular were too caught up in the thought of future meals and showers to let the repercussions get the best of them. And eventually, Meowth figured he might as well join in their silly enthusiasm, considering he was going to get what they all had been dreaming about. All in all, Team Rocket became so caught up in their _brilliant_ scheme, they hadn't even noticed Ash finish scrubbing up the dishes and heading out the door to the famous Oak Laboratory.

* * *

><p>Nothing appeared out of place.<p>

The Oak Lab was the same as Ash remembered. Every step up the winding staircase, every blade of grass swaying in the wind freely, and all the various Pokémon scattered across the property utterly content in their little slice of Heaven. Ash raced excitedly with Pikachu clinging tightly to his shoulder, admiring all the wondrous landscape as he drew closer to the lab's front door. He was more than thrilled to visit Sam Oak's dwelling, to catch up with the old professor, and of course, to see and reconnect with all his other Pokémon.

Reaching the top, Ash pressed his finger on the doorbell, signaling his arrival to the ones inside. He did not have to wait long, for a teenager, a couple years older than him, opened the door promptly with a welcoming smile.

"Hi, Ash! Hey, Pikachu!"

Ash grinned back while Pikachu cooed happily. "Hey, Tracey. How you've been?"

The dark-green haired boy nodded. "Great. The professor and I have been caught up in a lot of research. C'mon in, I'll tell you more about it."

Ash had chatted with Tracey on and off through their occasional phone conversations whenever he needed to switch out a member of his team, and yet seeing Tracey in person made Ash look differently at the young man. He had aged considerably from their travels in the Orange Islands. He was a tad taller, a tad slimmer with more defined muscles rather than awkward, round, and youthful cheeks. He still kept a headband wrapped around his head, and his overall cheery expression glowed like it always had.

Following behind the lab assistant, Ash entered the living room of the lab, seeing Prof. Oak hadn't changed the decor much. After all, keeping the place up to date on style and, sometimes, keeping the dust-bunnies away were the last things on his mind. Research revolved around the old man's life. Though thankfully, Tracey was always on top of things, including fieldwork _and_ housekeeping.

"So what have you guys been up to?" Ash questioned, making himself at home on the couch.

Tracey sat across from him in a comfy one-seat sofa. "A lot actually," he chuckled. "More than I could tell you. But lately... You see, we've been conducting research on one of the most mysterious legendries!"

"Seriously?" Ash asked incredulously. This was big! "Which one?"

Tracey looked up at him with plain eyes. "Ho-Oh."

"Ho-Oh?" Ash echoed as Pikachu cocked his head to the side.

He remembered a long time ago, when he first started his journey, that Prof. Oak had told him there was no way he could have seen Ho-Oh after that horrific storm, basically saying searching for anything on the bird surrounded in mystery was a lost cause; that hundreds had tried but never succeeded... Yet as Ash traveled on into the Johto region- he learned the basics. Overall background information by natives of Eureka City themselves, and any folklore passed down through the years one would believe to be the truth of the phoenix. All of that was familiar to Ash. So if it was very much impossible to discover any more on Ho-Oh, why was Prof. Oak of all people investigating?

Ash twisted his mouth for a moment, trying to find a logical explanation for the professor's sudden drive to uncover answers, but found nothing. "Do you know why?" the teenager pressed, looking to his friend.

"Not really," Tracey shrugged. "Prof. Oak just told me about a couple of weeks ago that we were going to start looking into Ho-Oh. That was pretty much it."

That was rather strange indeed. It wasn't like Prof. Oak to jump on a project out of blue- well, the passionate researcher in him might argue that, but at the very least he would have informed his lab assistant as to _why_ they would randomly start looking into a creature they hardly knew anything about except the obvious.

"Well... What have you learned so far?" Ash asked, curious all the same.

"Nothing that someone wouldn't already know," Tracey mused. "So far he's just informed me of Ho-Oh's backstory. He told me all about why it disappeared and what people believe to this day. Then he showed me a few findings he had in some of his books. I'm still not exactly sure what we're looking for."  
>So it seemed they were just getting started... Nevertheless, Ash figured it wouldn't be too long before Prof. Oak filled Tracey in on what the purpose was behind their new task. There had to be a reason, and a good and compelling reason at that.<p>

"Either way, it sounds exciting," Ash said casually.

Tracey smiled, the true explorer showing forth. "Doesn't it? If we uncover something about Ho-Oh that no one else knows, this could be a huge stride in Prof. Oak's career. That and-" he paused, gazing off to the side as if dreams were filtering through his head. "Well, it might help me in the research field too. You know, get my name out there and all."

Claiming it would help Tracey would be an understatement. Depending on what the pair would unearth, it would certainly give Tracey recognition in other labs across Kanto and as well as build his resume. After all, not everyone got to work side by side with Prof. Oak, nor could reveal a piece of unknown knowledge about Ho-Oh either.

Ash smiled back understandingly. "I can imagine. Knowing you two, I'm sure you'll find out something."

"Thanks, Ash. I hope we do."

"_You_ will," the teenager insisted. He had faith in the both of them, and simply talking about the research made him want to join. "And when you do, _you_ can fill me in on it."

Tracey chortled, expecting nothing less from his adventurous and very inquisitive friend. "Haha, sure thing."

The polite smiles faded steadily, for Ash was beginning to ponder other things, one being _where_ Prof. Oak exactly was. He hadn't seen him, or heard him squabbling with an uncooperative Pokémon who refused to get in their 'ball, or simply talking to himself under his breath as he worked.

Ash threw his gaze around, listening for some kind of noise. But heard nothing. "Say Tracey? Where is Prof. Oak?"

"He's actually down in the lab on the phone right now," Tracey informed. "But you're more than welcome to come see your Pokemon while you wait. I'm sure they would be happy to see you."

Ah yes, Ash's beloved rambunctious group of Pokémon. Visiting them was something he most certainly intended on doing (practically number one on his priority list), however, the business with Ho-Oh was a distraction he couldn't dismiss. But there wasn't much else to say, not without talking one on one with Prof. Oak. So Ash decided it would have to wait.

Ash got up as Tracey did the same, soon looking to Pikachu for an agreeable nod and quickly earned it with a "chu" accompanying it. Then, the teenager flashed his gaze back to the lab assistant. "Sounds great. We've got plenty of time to kill anyway."

* * *

><p>"Glad to hear from you! So you're already in Fuchsia City?"<p>

"We just arrived about an hour ago. We're at the airport right now."

Prof. Sam Oak wrinkled his forehead. "_We_?"

Last time he checked, there was no other human companion in Jay's party_ but_ him. Yet now, here a figure emerged shyly from the corner of the video screen, waving his hand sheepishly.

Sam's expression lightened. "Oh, hello Drake!" The professor hadn't seen that familiar face in ages. At least face to face. And when they last spoke, Drake wasn't taller than him and the shirt he wore was over-sized on his small boyish frame. Not an extremely fit young man who towered a couple inches over him. But what was Drake doing here?

"Uh, hi professor," he greeted awkwardly, his voice cracking slightly over the long distance call. "I'm guessing you're probably wondering what I'm doing here."

"You guessed right." Sam's tone sharpened rather drastically, looking to Jay with a fatherly stern expression. "Jayce, I thought you said it was dangerous to have anyone accompany you to begin with? After all the trouble you've gone through-"

"I did, but Giovanni doesn't know Drake and I are related," Jay hastily said, staying rather calm. "Besides, I need this guy to help me convince the league for their help," he added, elbowing his brother playfully. "To _vouch_ for me."

The professor raised a brow, still not convinced. "And you think that Giovanni not knowing how you and Drake are connected would make a difference in seeking the league's aid? He still might try-"

"If there's one thing I've learned it's that the lackeys Giovanni sends after me aren't that swift. If they haven't even realized we've been in contact after all this time, then the chances of them finding out about Drake are slim. Plus, it helps that Drake goes by his mom's last name instead."

Well that all did make sense. By the grace of God there had been no suspicious activity blatantly stating Giovanni was aware of Jay and Sam's phone calls. Neither had Team Rocket picked up on the subtle, yet big relation between him and Drake. Year after year, Jay was able to stay in contact with the professor and gain more information, and sometimes be assisted when in financial troubles. Jay swore if Team Rocket found out about Sam, not only would the researcher's life be at stake, but Jay sure wouldn't have gotten where he was without the old man's aid. Saying he was thankful that Giovanni's grunts were a tad on the doltish side was an understatement. There were the occasional agents that weren't so easy to fool, but most of the time, after years of being on the run, it became easier for Jay to camouflage and fend for himself. And now with Drake by his side- that just made things twice as easier.

Prof. Oak sighed. "If you say so." After all the turmoil Jay had survived unscathed (physically that is), Sam doubted Jay's motives and decisions less and less. Still, that father and friend in him couldn't help but worry when Jay outwardly plunged himself in the face of danger for the food of mankind. The bravery or sometimes considered recklessness was very much- a _family_ trait for the Ketchums.

"But I still would suggest keeping both eyes open-"

"Don't worry, Sam," Jay assured again sincerely. "We'll be fine. Besides, Drake's appearance might shake things up a bit."

"Yes, they might. In a _bad_ way," the professor threw in foreboding the obvious.

Diminishing Jay's one last attempt at being free was never Sam's intention. Rather, he preferred for his friend to move about carefully, consider his actions and wants before performing them. Yes, Drake clearly would be an asset to have as an ally, both on the battlefield and in regards to speaking with the league. But was that worth the risk? The big picture? Then again, hadn't they both agreed that Jay had done enough running around for a lifetime?

Conflicted, Sam sighed and rested his faith in the hands of the two men.

"Just promise me you two will watch out for each other? There's no telling what Team Rocket might pull. Why, their past stunts speak for themselves!"

"Past stunts?" Drake echoed, not liking Prof. Oak's sudden exclaim. His eyes soon shifted over to Jay, mingling with worry and perplexity all at once. "Do I dare ask?"

"Why?" Jay retorted with a smirk. "Ya scared?"

"To be honest, kinda."

"Well, just to give you an example," Jay started thoughtfully, stroking his chin, "they once threatened to give me a frontal lobotomy for information."

Did he just_ hear_ him correctly? Blue eyes widened as Drake stood stupefied, sucking in a startling breath. "They tried to give you a_ frontal lobotomy_?" he at last repeated.

"Relax. They never succeeded," he quickly cleared. Just hearing that word kicked Jay into natural defensive mode. There was no way in hell he'd succumb to such torture, even if he meant he had to fight off a pack of six guys with his already injured Pokémon in need of rest. It was a good thing his Marshtomp evolved that day.

"I've gotten out of so much that none of it really scares me anymore," Jay explained, keeping himself calm and cool.

Drake was certain, though, the confidence wasn't plain arrogance on Jay's part. That wasn't in his makeup. However, what the trainer couldn't tell was if his brother's lack of fear was because he had become resistant to scary elements most individuals would quiver from, or if he was officially crazy. Either way, Jay's words weren't enough for the trainer to feel at ease without those haunting thoughts of being penetrated in the eyeball as a result facing a mental breakdown.

"You're telling me you aren't scared- _period_?" Drake asked, utterly dumbfounded.

Serious, icy eyes flashed back at Drake with lowered eyebrows, deep in thought. "I'm still afraid of what Giovanni might try to pull in Pallet if he gets wind of my plan," Jay somberly confessed. "_Trust_ me. I can't help but worry about..."

His thought trailed off into an incomplete sentence; however Drake didn't need his older brother to finish for him to understand. Things were about heat up, which meant a lot would be at risk, things would change. _People_ could be hurt.

"He won't," Drake assured like a mother tending to an open new wound on her child. "I mean- we'll try not to let it happen. _They'll_ be safe. You've kept them safe for this long." Eventually, Drake's gaze lingered back to Prof. Oak, faintly begging for him to provide his own dose of reassurance. "You'll keep an eye on Delia and Ash, won't you Sam?"

Prof. Oak nodded. "As I always have. But with the way Ash is coming up, I'm sure he could hold his own. He is very headstrong!" he chortled with nothing but good humor.

This made Drake smirk softly, cocking an eye at his brother. It wasn't a surprise really. "Hmm, I wonder where he gets that from?"

"Probably from his mom," Jay answered with a shrug, though he knew quite perfectly what his little brother was implying.

_Yeah, uh-huh. From his mom, _Drake snorted silently. If anything, Ash got it from both_ his_ parents.

Before any more witty banter could spur between the two, however, the subject was changed rather to all's advantage. Talk of Team Rocket's use of torture and the sensitive subject of his estranged son weren't exactly topics Jay longed to discuss. But what came out of Prof. Oak's mouth wasn't at all delicate, but out of the blue yet thoughtful.

The professor's memory was jogged when his eyes wandered to the open tab of his e-mail on his computer, right in the middle of the brothers' sarcastic bantering. "Oh, by the way, you two," Sam abruptly said with a small smile, "in case you have a chance to actually enjoy summer, there's an annual festival being held right now in Fuchsia. It popped up in my e-mail on Summer Kanto Events!" he explained, with another short laugh.

"A festival?" Drake piped up.

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "I believe today is the last day."

The last thing they needed was confirmation about a city event not worth their time. Jay was itching to start moving again, and hadn't thought about anything else. His number one goal was to get to the Indigo League in one piece, which meant spending less time sightseeing and more time running on uneven dirt roads.

All the same, Jay tried to be polite about Sam's innocent suggestion. "Thanks Sam, but I don't think we're gonna be able to stick around for it-"

"Sure we can," Drake cut off with a grateful grin. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all."

"Are you _nuts_?" Jay raised his voice in disbelief. He had to be kidding! Of course it was trouble. Going there was a way of _asking_ for trouble! "You seriously want to go to a festival which we have no clue what it's about on _top_ of Team Rocket tracking us down? The sooner and quicker we move the_ better_."

Jay's stance on the matter was rather compelling, but it was argumentative. And Drake made sure to remind him of just that.

"Yeah, but you honestly think Team Rocket would consider crashing a highly-populated festival without making a scene?" he rebutted, examining the whole picture. "Usually, you said when you're in a big crowd they don't like to draw attention to themselves."

"Yes, that is usually the case. However, there's always a chance they will. Hence:_ usually_."

His voice was bitter and definite, and didn't waver at any of the points his little brother willingly mentioned. This wasn't a game, there was no time to be goofing off. Festival or no festival, Jay wasn't about to take a short "break" only to be tailed by the organization he had worked so hard to escape and eventually lose all sight of. Leaving an obvious breadcrumb trail behind, only for the goons to pick at it as they went along, wasn't exactly what he defined as a smart strategy.

But Drake wasn't through persisting.

"Well, I don't think it would kill either one of us if we went." His word choice wasn't thoughtful. Then again, if they were hidden among a gigantic swarm of people would they really be in any danger? "Besides, it's about the only amount of semi-enjoyment we're gonna get out of this trip."

A roll of Jay's eyes indicated his view on the debate. Drake should have used the word _I _if he so wanted to make it clear that his vacation time had been stripped away from him. It's not like he didn't have a choice- Then again, guilt would have ridden heavily on his shoulders if he hadn't complied...

With an irritated huff, Jay drew his attention back to Sam with support, but all he earned was a neutral look. First, Sam warned him to watch his step, and now he permitted them to run head first into a possible trap? The only thing that made somewhat sense about going to the festival was, one: it was summer, and summer indicated fun and relaxation no matter how old one was; two: as far as Jay was aware, Team Rocket was oblivious to his whereabouts; and three: as Drake mentioned earlier, blending into enormous crowds did the trick of scaring them away. On most instances, that is... That and they rightfully _deserved_ a break.

With another loud huff, Jay made his decision. "Fine, if you insist," he grumbled sourly, folding his arms. "But don't be surprised if something happens. If _I'm right._ And to make things easier on both our parts, we can at least drive down in case any suspecting eyes see us."

Drake's forehead wrinkled in surprise. "Hold on! What do you mean drive?-"

Suddenly, a loud sound behind the closed door of Prof. Oak's lab erupted, and while it was faint to Sam's ear, it was enough to draw his attention. Then, he heard a distinct voice. _Someone_ was coming. Hurriedly, with an even expression but a racing pulse, Sam swiveled back to the two men.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, you two, but I've got some trainers waiting for me," he said, looking up to the staircase with a nervous gulp. After ten years... this- this wasn't the way that_ someone_ should find out.

"It's fine, Sam," Jay replied, unaware of Sam's sudden reasoning for extinguishing the conversation. "We wouldn't want to hold you up."

"Talk to you two later, then?" Sam said, making the signing off official.

"Yeah," Jay answered. "We'll call later."

"Take care then, and enjoy the festival."

The waving of Sam's hand speedily vanished as the video screen went pitch black, following through with Jay hanging up the receiver. So that was it. They'd drop their stuff off at the Pokémon Center, have a quick meal, and go to the festival. Then they'd check out the sights and hopefully, Drake would be satisfied with enough free time that he'd stop his deprivation and move on.

However, there was one other thing Drake wasn't through with.

Turning to his brother, Drake cocked a suspicious yet confused eye. "So what's this _drive_ business about?"

Jay just smiled, motioning his head to the left. "Take a look yourself."

Back inside the lab, as his side of the screen switched off into darkness, Prof. Oak released a sigh of relief and slumped in his swiveling chair. That was close. Being caught in the middle of an awkward reunion of father/son and then to have to explain to Ash why he was in contact with Jay, handling a likely angry, crying, confused, aghast, or simply all four of those emotions combined, already fragile teenager... But everything was fine. Ash (while Sam was sure it was him by his voice), was still outside the door, and Jay and Drake were completely wiped away from the screen. Yes, no one was going to find out anything-

At least not yet.

_I just hope they'll be all right,_ Sam began to ponder, praying the little outing was a good idea.

While it was important for Jay and Drake to get going, they needed rest and if concealing in a large mass of people also had its perks then there was no point in them not going. However- A fast creaking of an open door drew the professor's eyes to the stairwell, discovering none other than Ash and his yellow mouse smiling buoyantly at them. Tracey soon followed behind, as they made their way down the steps.

"Ah, Ash! Pikachu!" Prof. Oak first called, rising from his seat. "I thought I might have heard you."

"Hey, professor!" Ash replied back, ignorant to the man's hidings. "Sorry if I'm interrupting you-"

"Not at all," the professor waved, trying to act like his normal self. "Now what can I do for you? Came to visit your Pokémon, I assume? They've been itching to see you again."

"Actually, Tracey and I just did that," Ash explained, beaming at the lab assistant as they met Sam on ground level.

The professor's brows rose, astonished. "That quickly?"

"Oh no, I've been here a while," the teenager clarified. It made sense. Sam believed he had heard the doorbell ring, even from down there. "Tracey's been updating me on all your latest research."

Sam cringed inside. Oh no. What _had_ Tracey said? The lab assistant was clueless of the reasoning behind their latest task, but if Ash was to catch on, anyway... How could he explain this? To both of them? There was no doubt Tracey would eventually be informed, let in all the secrets in order for their research to be a success. But as for Ash... He wasn't supposed to know anything. Those were the orders.

"Oh." Prof. Oak was in a real pickle. With a quivering lip, he swallowed, attempting to keep his composure. "You mean us looking into-"

"Ho-Oh," Ash finished. "I was wondering what exactly you guys are looking into. Like more about its origin or something? I'm sorry, it just sounds really fascinating to me."

Fascinating indeed. Sam couldn't blame the kid; after all Ash was always inquisitive when it came to news in the realm of Pokémon. It was an innocent question and on most instances, the professor was more than eager to spill the beans about all his recent work. The announcement of he and Tracey diving into the unknown territory of the legendary bird was hard for anyone to resist popping questions... However, Sam wasn't ready to tell Ash any of this; nevertheless he had to dream up _something_ to say. But what?

Prof. Oak choked. "I- I'm not quite sure yet."

Ash lowered his eyebrows, puzzled. "What do you mean? You must have some reason-"

"It's purely out of curiosity. No one in years has really taken the time to look into Ho-Oh, so I thought I'd take a whack at it. When Tracey and I find something..." The sentence lingered into nothing, and both Ash and Tracey stood very surprised. The tone Prof. Oak used was definite, and he rushed through his words without elaborating much, almost sounding like he was purposely being hasty- almost _harsh_. Either he was simply frustrated by the project, or he didn't want them to know much about it. But this was Prof. Oak! He'd never hide anything. Would he?

There was a pause, but it was short as the corners of Sam's lips flew back up at the perplexed boys. "We'll be sure to tell you," he finally declared with a softer, less frazzled tone. "I promise. The project is just in its infantile stage right now."

Ash nodded slowly. "Uh, okay."

"Now, why don't we all have some tea and you can tell us all about your adventures?"

The abrupt shift in topic sounded more like a pushy demand rather than a request. Without fighting it because Ash really didn't understand why to fight it, he and Tracey nodded, only to see the tension in Sam's shoulders fade immensely.

"Sounds good," Ash agreed evenly.

"Wonderful," the professor exclaimed, already making his start up the staircase like his old self. "I'll get the tea kettle ready."

Yet everything wasn't wonderful. At least not in one person's suspicious mind. Ash was left silently wondering one question, and while he pressured to ask Tracey it, he could not with Prof. Oak directly in front of them as they traveled up the staircase. So he looked to Pikachu quietly, who appeared just as befuddled as him. He was a Pokémon, but Pikachu could sense something was off.

And both master and Pokémon felt a strange need to worry about it.

* * *

><p>"Tom, relax, we've got this all under control."<p>

"I appreciate your reassurance, Leah, but I am afraid you don't understand the delicacy of this."

"Delicate how? All we're doing is hosting a celebration in honor of the Mayor's reelection."

Tom was completely aghast. "That's exactly my point! This is for the mayor, _our _mayor! A very important figure in the town that deserves nothing but the best! Plus, think of the publicity you would get if this ended up in the newspaper! Everyone will be crawling to the inn!"

Publicity or not, neither Delia, Michelle, nor Leah were ready to vanquish any authority over to the annoying head of the town council. The inn's grand celebration of its anniversary and the mayor's reelection was, yet again, another important Pallet Town ordeal that he could not help but stick his nose in, like a blister that never went away. Seeing his "high and mighty position," the obnoxious man found it appropriate for him to barge into the ladies' plans for the important evening. After all, part of the reception dealt with the mayor, and it was no secret Tom was a, what Ernest put it as, "an ass kisser," hoping to seek higher privileges and prayers from a forty year old man who honestly didn't do much for the town to begin with besides serve an empty title. It seemed the mayor allowed the council to orchestrate most of the happenings in the quaint community, which left Tom to think he was in possession of some kind of holier power.

An exasperated sigh slipped from Delia's throat as she played idly with her pen, praying for their forced meeting to be over soon. They were supposed to be discussing main courses, decorations, hiring a band possibly, and the final designs for flyers. For_ the people_. Not what the mayor needed or would make him feel right at home. Not only that, but Delia desperately needed some lunch if she was going to think halfway straight.

Placing the thought of receiving more customers because of this aside, Leah countered Tom's statement tactfully. "You never cared so much when Prof. Oak asked us to host a party for him and his colleagues."

"That was a different circumstance. This is about the town!" he explained as if the innkeeper should have known better. Prof. Oak and whatever theories he wished to discuss with similar detached men of their social clique was far from his concern. "One of our most profitable establishments is celebrating fifty-five years of success, and our mayor has just won yet another election even with handicaps!"

"Because no one else ran," Michelle reminded. Her doodles on her paper that she originally had to take notes were driving her mad. That pie and soufflé she sketched out really made her realize she was way past her usual lunch time. Delia sure wasn't the only one who felt that incessant rumbling. Though her empty stomach didn't distract her enough to not catch on to Tom's word choice. "And what do you mean handicaps?" she questioned, giving the balding man a peculiar eye.

Tom's eyes went wide, shaking his head as he diverted his gaze. "I've said too much."

"No, tell us, Tom," Leah persisted evenly. "If we're supposed to understand your continual worries then there's no sense leaving us in the dark."

"Well..." His eyes kept trailing, almost loitering purposely to heighten the suspense. Then, he breathed out a heavy huff. "I'm sure that everyone will get wind of this eventually, but..."

"But what?" Delia piped up, honestly confused.

Spinning his attention back to the three women, Tom hunkered down while speaking in a low whisper. Like children finding out a dirty secret about their fellow classmate, the man proceeded to give each and every one of them a stern glance. "You ladies have to promise on Pallet's founder that you won't breathe a _word_ of this to anyone till it is announced."

"Tom, what's the big secret that you're making us swear on the town's founder?" Michelle snapped, cutting to the chase. She didn't like this beating around the bush, especially when she had sous chefs in need of her and customers to make happy.

Though Tom held on to the anticipation despite the older woman's impatience, giving one last thought of consideration before blurting out the truth. "Rumor has it that the mayor is in the middle of settling a _divorce_."

Leah was the first to frown. "And this is any of our business because-"

"Because can you imagine the bad wrap he'll be getting?" Tom finally exploded. Once noticing his voice had raised a couple of levels, he peered over his shoulder as if someone was actually listening in. But no one was, so he swiveled back around in the same secretive position. "His wife was already starting to spout off about him two-timing her."

"Well maybe he did!" Michelle suggested, seeing it was_ very_ possible. Human beings made terrible mistakes, and being involved with politics, even small town politics, could attract the wrong kind of public attention.

Tom was taken aback as if she refused to sing Kanto's national anthem. "Michelle, do not speculate such disrespectful things about the mayor! His wife's a basket case as it is! You can't take her word seriously. She says anything she likes. Remember how she snubbed you and Leah _and_ Delia at last year's bake sale?"

Ah, who could forget that? It was the bake sale of all bake sales. All the money raised was supposed to be donated to the town's preparation for the big summer festival. Many enthusiastic bakers joined, both amateur and experienced, though everyone flocked anyway to delight in a sweet treat and help contribute a donation, big or small, to their precious festival. The mayor, of course, attended the sale, and his wife joined in on the scene, making chitchat and purchases with only close friends. She even had the gall to dismiss Delia and the others' talents, claiming their pies to be nothing more than average to everyone around her. And for no reason to! Only jealousy could light such a desire to hurt, and as to why she'd do such a thing-

Delia still bristled at that. That insufferable and childish woman! They all had worked so hard on their desserts, that none of them deserved such criticism. Especially from a woman who hadn't participated in the sale herself, nor probably knew how to make a proper pie crust.

"She was kind of rude," Delia muttered, considering that point was indeed true.

"So what?" Michelle furthered to argue. As much as she disliked being criticized on a juvenile level, she wasn't about to let anything that woman say rule over her. And, well, completely define her character. "Just because she's rude doesn't make her a, well- adulterer!"

"Rude is rude, and if she already has bad blood with you three, think of the scandal that could break out here if everyone found out. If_ she_ found out. She'll be starting some crazy rumor that one of you is having an affair with her husband and that's why you're hosting the party in honor of him! That's why we can't have any imperfections among you or the staff. Give her any reasons to think such things!"

Well, it wasn't their idea to necessarily host the party just for the mayor. It was actually the town council's suggestion, and after taking a poll at one of the many meetings, the people agreed it would be only right to throw a little bash for the man. So, seeing they were the only inn within a reasonable radiance, the task fell onto Leah, her daughter, and her business associate. At first, they were more than happy to do so, seeing they had their own little shindig to plan. But now with Tom's overbearing input and this sudden pressure... it was becoming a tad too much, and that dreamt up rumor Tom created was the last straw.

It was unorthodox to say the least.

"Right," Leah surprisingly bit back sarcastically, but in a subtle tone. "And people would believe her."

"Well, not so much you, Leah. But I'm afraid Delia appears vulnerable to the public eye-"

Delia's eyebrows lowered, peeved. "Come again?"

"What is_ that_ supposed to mean, Tom?" Michelle sharply added in, for both herself and Leah. She may not have been Delia's biological mother, but by God, being her Godmother was enough to make her natural maternal instincts kick in.

"I'm just trying to say, while we all know Delia is an upstanding woman, her single status may ruffle a few feathers," Tom elucidated discreetly as if trying to cover up something.

This only made Delia's eyebrow twitched. "I am_ not_ single, and I highly doubt_ I'll_ ruffle any feathers."

The day Ash left for his journey Delia placed her wedding band back on her delicate finger. That letter Jay wrote, the one Ash so kindly left for her to find... It nearly made Delia's feelings of fear, despair, anger, and confusion wash away. And a few days before, when she at last confessed to her broken son that she indeed still had strong affections for his father... Delia hadn't harbored those feelings in so long now thanks to that letter. At least, the doubt and pain had eased itself to a more tolerable level.

In return, Tom scoffed at her insistence. "Oh come now, Delia! Despite your single status _or_ not, let us not forget the explicable incident you brought upon yourself. No one has forgotten that!"

Delia's mouth gaped. "_Explicable incident_? What in the world are you talking about?" She felt as if she had been hit out of left field.

"The time when you-" An awkward expression graced Tom's face, fidgeting with his mouth, indicating he was having difficulty finding the right words to say. If there _were_ any right words, for that matter. "Well, when you tragically earned the name, 'the town tart' for nearly close to six months."

Delia's cheeks flushed. Everyone had to have forgotten that. They _had_ to. That was years ago! A year or two before Ash was even born! No, that was just old news now...

Regaining her composure, Delia sat with a firm glare. "That has _nothing_ to do with what we're dealing with today. And I would just like to say on behalf of my own defense, that that so called 'incident' was an _accident_."

The clarification wasn't enough for Tom, though. "Call it what you may, you undeniably flashed yourself to two individuals. We have witnesses."

"By _accident," _the woman insisted strongly, feeling the heat in her cheeks intensify. "It wasn't my intention to- to-!"

"I completely understand that you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. But it _did_ look as if you were showing a sneak preview to your boyfriend-"

"Well I don't see how scandalous it is now Tom, considering he's my _husband_. I've never been with any other man before."

"Be it as it may, at the time it looked rather suggestive."

Delia begged to differ. She didn't come out onto the front porch half-naked saying "come hither" to any teenage boy with an alluring eye. That wasn't the reputation she set for herself! Ever! She had actually rushed out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around her because she had forgotten the egg delivery Mrs. Abbott was coming by to pick up early that evening. And that she was the one settled with the task of giving it to her. All Delia was going to do was stick her hand out the door with the egg-box right there for the elderly woman to reach when, losing her grip, her towel slipped from her upper body, and by trying to catch her exposed chest the door swung open, only to discover not a little old lady, but her red-faced, frozen boyfriend standing before her with the world history textbook in his hand that she had forgotten on her last visit to his house.

Poor Jay. He was so modest then and so considerate of everything under the moon when it came to his girlfriend. Delia was about as heated in the face as he was, and just as panicked and startled- and embarrassed. Both rambling like idiots with sincere apologies, Jay covering his face and backing up, while Delia struggled to hide the revealed part of her body. Jay wasn't supposed to see her that way, not right then and there- well, part of her then and there, and Greta (the biggest gossiper in town), who was meandering down the road, wasn't supposed to see it at all _period_. But she saw a good enough glimpse to make an inappropriate comment before rushing back to her store and letting all of Pallet know the latest gossip. And boy, did talk of the farmer and innkeeper's youngest daughter flashing herself to the wealthiest resident's son became big news everyone was dying to hear. And both Delia and Jay suffered greatly from it. Not only from the exaggerated gossip, but from Ernest's wrath. That was the day Delia swore Jay was going to officially lose an eye.

That was certainly not the first intimate encounter Delia wanted with her true love. If anything, it was a bad comedy of errors.

Being consumed with the displeasure that accident had brought upon them all those years ago, Leah's gaze sharpened. "That is enough Tom! This is completely irrelevant. For one, I think that-"

But before she could fully defend her daughter's character, the phone at the front desk buzzed off. It was joy to Delia's ears, though. Her chance to get away from all the inane madness.

Delia soon turned to her mother as she rose out of her seat. "I'll get it, Mom," she willingly volunteered, fleeing the dining room before more talk spurred. She couldn't believe how a simple conversation over tablecloths led to the speculation of the mayor being an adulterer, to her being suspect number one – even though she really wasn't. Same ol' crazy town and all its crazy people. Delia was beginning to wonder if the party was worth the trouble at all.

Answering the phone, however, on the third ring, Delia withheld her anxiety. "_Butterfree Inn_, Delia speaking. How may I help you?"

"I'm thinking about roast for dinner. Ash likes roast, doesn't he?"

Delia's mouth fell open, chestnut eyes wide. "_Emily_?"

"Why do you always act so surprised when I call?" Delia's mother-in-law snapped. "Of course it's me! Now does Ash like roast or not?"

"Uh- yes," Delia replied, regaining her composure with a shake of her head. "He loves roast but-"

"Perfect. I'll have Elisa pick one up for tonight. Did you hear that, Elisa?" Delia heard Emily's voice rise, as if calling across a long distance. "I need a roast for tonight! And not a _chuck roast_. Those things are cheap-"

"Tonight?" Delia interrupted.

Emily Ketchum was using her overly demanding voice, the one her older son believed she used when she sat on her unworn sofa with the phone balancing perfectly against her ear, and hollering at the fifth maid she hired for the month who was off in another room. Apparently, _that_ hadn't changed either.

Hearing she had caught Emily's attention with her exclaim, Delia refocused and continued somewhat calmly. "Emily- how did you find out Ash is home? He's only been here for a day-"

"I have ways, Delia. One being the old woman with missing teeth at the store who can't keep her mouth shut," Emily retorted crudely, but all the same true.

The sad part was, Delia knew who she meant. And it was the same old woman who was causing her agony with Tom's accusations now. "You mean Greta?" she corrected with a defeatist sigh.

"Whatever her name is. I suppose you _were_ going to get around to telling me-"

"Of course I was," the young woman swore promptly. "I just haven't had the chance with everything at the inn, and Ash is still settling in-"

"What's going on at the inn?"

Now Emily was using her "interested voice." Delia had attempted to keep Emily updated with her life as family would on occasion, and there had been significant progress in their strained relationship since Ash departed home. But still, nothing could be a bed full of roses with Emily. Everything was just always full of- tension. Maybe less tension after all these years; however, the tension was very much still alive.

Delia shook her head. "Nothing, only we're trying to plan a dinner in honor for the mayor's re-election and our own anniversary for the establishment."

"Well that certainly doesn't sound like nothing!" It wasn't. And Delia hoped to get the message across with her slightly exasperated tone. However, all Emily could do was wonder about something else.

"Why haven't you told me about this?" the older woman instead demanded. "I could be of service-"

"Oh Emily, as kind as that is of you, I know how busy your schedule is," she swiftly rebutted, keeping a polite voice in check. Though Delia preferred she'd stay out of her business and be flexible with her schedule altogether.

This only made Emily scoff harshly. "Oh for God's sake, you should know better now than to patronize me, Delia. My schedule is flexible for me to re-arrange things. Unless, you do not think my opinion is valid enough for your barn-raising themed event-"

"No, no," Delia quietly but hastily corrected. "I'm sure hearing someone else's perspective would be refreshing. Especially on decor."

Emily could help with decor if she wished, but Delia didn't want her touching her menu. She and Michelle had slaved over that and there was no way their perfected recipes would be tossed out the window at the idea of Gyarados fritters or Octillery suckers because Emily believed they'd add a worldly twist to the menu.

Thankfully, though, Delia's mother-in-law appeared fairly satisfied. "Well then it's settled. As long as your mother is fine with it, I'd be more than delighted to aid you two. After all, party planning is a breeze for someone who's thrown over a hundred banquets, fundraisers, functions for various clubs, birthday parties-"

"We would be very happy to have you."

Delia didn't need to be reminded of all the work Emily had done in the past, and the experience she gained from it. What aggravated her was the fact that Emily seemed to forget that both she and Leah had plenty of knowledge of the catering business as well. Considering they had catered her ludicrous _Daughters of Kanto_ fundraisers to begin with. It wasn't as if Emily had bad taste, however, she didn't need her mother-in-law's controlling behavior taking over the entire operation.

Nevertheless, Delia decided to be the bigger person and allowed her to join in once earning Leah's permission. Which she was sure she'd get out of pure intimidation and desire to not start a war.

"Wonderful!" Emily exclaimed, her lips finally curving into a smile. A smile reading: mission accomplished. "We can talk and arrange a time tonight of when we all should meet. I'll see you at six then."

"See you at six," she replied with a fake cheery tone.

And with that, Delia slammed the phone down and huffed.

Damn.

Emily always managed to get her tongue-tied with no idea how to undo the pesky knot. It was times like this she wished for her _husband_ to appear. He'd know what to do, how to handle his forceful mother, how to shrug off anything she'd say whether it'd turn ugly or not... Because at the end of the day he had learned to care less. It made Delia wonder all the more if she simply needed to _think_ like Jay when confronting Emily. Then again, to think like Jay would make her a different person entirely, and she wasn't sure she had enough sarcastic comebacks and distance to not take her mother-in-law's words to heart. Why did she out of all people have to get stuck with someone like her for an in-law? Hadn't Delia done enough good to get some kind of relief from her family, albeit biologically related or not?

Sighing, the exasperated woman's attention was diverted to a warm grin and casual wave. Ash had just strolled into the inn, appearing as if he might have spent a good deal of time out in the hot sun, and to her assumption, most likely romping around with his Pokémon.

Finally, someone with a _sane_ mind to talk to.

"Hey, Mom," he called, bouncing over to the front desk.

Delia's face lit up with a small but tired smile. "Hi, sweetie." She didn't know how she was going to drop the bomb to her son about dinner, nor how he'd react to the sudden arrangements they had no choice but to attend. More than anything, Delia knew she would be the one really dreading the gathering. "So... I have a surprise to tell you."

"A good surprise?" Ash lingered cautiously.

Delia's smile slipped nervously. "Depending on how you look at it."

"Okay... So what it is Mom?"

"Well, a little birdie told your very well off grandparents, who we are _very_ much thankful for their help, that you just came home."

Ash frowned. "It was Greta, wasn't it? Why does she have to blab about everyone's personal business?"

"Ash, you realize you were going to have to visit them eventually," Delia reminded, seeing reason, though she had been dreading it in the back of her mind.

"Well yeah, I don't mind, but I just got home," her son replied, a little taken aback. "I haven't even had time to relax, let alone arrange dinner plans with them-" Ash stopped. He should have known better. "_Are_ we having dinner with them?"

Delia nodded, smiling softly as if to grin and bear it. "Tonight at six, right on the dot."

"All right. You think Grandpa will be there?" he asked, hoping for Richard's presence. It was never the assumption that he disliked Emily, rather the teenager found more fruitful things to discuss with his grandfather. One being Pokémon. After all, Ash's ignorance of Emily's prickliness faded, seeing more and more of her behavior. But he loved her like a good grandson should nonetheless.

"I'm sure," his mother nodded. She then watched Ash's eyes drop down to the counter, seeing himself become distant over the dinner, though it was unclear why. Reaching her hand out, Delia touched his hand warmly. He may have been in the process of becoming a young independent man, but Delia still looked at him as the little boy who cried when suffering a scrape on his knee.

"Honey," Delia cooed, earning his eyesight, "they're just excited to see you again. We all are."

Ash sighed, drawing his hand back to his side. "I know, I know... It's- It's just when I was on my way home, when I saw everyone and everything... I got this weird feeling in my gut." Delia stood by anxiously, trying to decipher what her son's riddle meant. For the past six years, everything had gone fairly swimmingly for the both of them. It was only natural to receive a few jitters when heading to the senior Ketchums' house, yet- Delia wasn't sure if that was completely it.

More so quickly than slowly, Ash beamed one of his traditional upbeat smiles. "It's okay though, Mom. I'm excited to see them again too."

She felt it was a facade to cover up something deeper, but Delia smiled along anyway. She had enough troubles waiting in the dining room for her. And she didn't need Ash to get an earful of any of it. Hoping Ash's presence would buffer such strange talk, Delia led her son back into the room with her, finding the discussion to be reaching an end. Tom rose from his seat and pushed his chair in. Thank goodness!

"Fine, I'm glad we have reached an agreement," the pair heard him say to Leah and Michelle. He didn't go into much depth after that to their surprise, though Delia knew she'd eventually get the full scoop from Leah. Hopefully, instead of Tom's outrageous concerns, they went back to talking about linens and how many chairs were needed in each room.

As he turned on his heels, Tom unexpectedly froze, swiveling back around to Leah and Michelle. They all braced themselves for what was to come next. "Oh, and Michelle?" he said, looking specifically at her. "I would suggest laying off the heavy side of your Dijon rue. Gave my stomach the rumblies last year," he explained, gesturing to his stomach with a severe pain in his eyes.

"The _rumblies_?" she echoed incredulously as he walked away from them, giving one last glance to Ash and Delia out of politeness. "My food gave him the _rumblies_?"

Michelle gawked at her business partner for a reasonable explanation, but all Leah could provide was a hopeless shrug. "It's Tom terminology. What's there more to say?"

"He just criticized my food, Leah! _Our_ food! That we have cultivated and perfected for the last fifty odd years! From your mother to us! Like he's some executive chef or food writer or-"

"Michelle, Tom's opinion isn't high above any one of our other costumers."

Both women had slaved continuously over that establishment since Leah's mother's retiring and soon passing. Those recipes were born through their culinary genius minds. And to Michelle in particular, being a passionate chef as she was, insulting her food without a respectful critical eye was like someone's children being bashed. She had worked too hard for any of Tom's nonsense, especially after the stunt he pulled on Delia.

"But what if he starts telling people our food makes them get gut aches that are so bad, you have to be hospitalized?" Michelle began to panic, going to the worst case scenario.

"We just had a world renowned food critic come in March, and he praised every one of us," Leah reassured, naturally being the more level-headed one. "Loved our food to the point where he _could_ have suffered stomach pains. But he _didn't_."

The words seemed to ease Michelle. "Yeah, you're right... But still..."

Eventually, Delia and Ash made their presence known, coming to the table to help break some of the ice.

Instantly, the beginning of Ash's tanning layer did just that. "Hey," Michelle said warmly to the teenager, "looks like you got some sun."

"Yeah, I did." Ash smile drooped as he examined a twitching Michelle, arching his brow with puzzlement and worry. She was smiling, but she still looked very much nervous. "You okay?"

"Just a little Tom anxiety, that's all," Leah answered for her.

"Do you think my food is great?" she suddenly asked, panicking, followed by flying more erratic questions at the teenager. "I mean, have you ever had a_ huge_ stomachache after eating any of our food? Like the Dijon rue perhaps?"

Putting his thinking cap on, Ash paused and twisted his mouth, as if taking every creation he had ever eaten from the hands of her into consideration. "Once when I overdid it on Mom's bread pudding. But not usually, no. And I think Dijon's gross so no on that one too."

"That's… comforting," she at last said, staring blankly. Had Michelle finally suffered a mental breakdown? As she rose from her seat haphazardly, Ash almost believed she had. With curious eyes, Ash watched the round woman stroll away backwards, babbling while pointing to her destination. He had no clue what kind of trouble stirred.

"I think I'm going to go back in the kitchen and ask every one of the sous chefs if they've suffered mild to severe rumblies."

Ash's confusion furthered as Michelle disappeared hurriedly. Then, he swept his gaze to his mother and grandma for an answer. "What?"

"Just your basic Tom terminology," Leah answered again, as if it was to be expected.

That was enough in itself. But still, Ash wondered what could have made her so unglued. "Do I even want to know?" he posed again. Frankly, he wasn't sure if he did.

Ash's grandmother shook her head. "Not really."

The teenager nodded, not saying another word. An awkward silence plagued the three of them, glancing around, not sure where to carry on the conversation next. It was then Delia supposed she might as well let her mom know she and Ash weren't going to join them for dinner.

Lighting her face with a small grin of irony, Delia called for Leah's attention. "So Mom, guess who was on the phone?"

Some things never changed.

* * *

><p>"The Pokémon Center just had to be full," Jay huffed as he and his brother drove down the evenly paved city road.<p>

He could thank that stupid festival which drew in so much attention, that the entire entry of the center was swamped. Jay and Drake had to push their way through just to reach Nurse Joy, only for her to turn them down and for them to walk back through the chaos. It was a real mess neither one of them were expecting, and now were lost on where to hit the sack. It was only late afternoon, but soon hotels, motels, whatever, would be filled.

"Well," Jay soon sighed, his grip tight on the steering wheel, "where are we supposed to go now?"

"I'm trying to see what hotels they have around here," Drake said, his eyes solely focused on his cellphone. "But all I keep finding are places out of our price range."

That measly festival sure had brought in a large diverse mob, so large it was becoming impossible for the brothers to find any lodging. All that seemed available were high-end hotels, ones no one could afford. Apparently, _everyone_ was on a budget. Not only that, but the brand new car parked out in the airport parking-lot was another overwhelming shocker. The midnight hue tinted vehicle sat untouched and in perfect shape for them, and once Jay jingled the keys in Drake's face he knew he wasn't joking. A real car, to actually ride in and give their feet a _real_ rest... It was very much an appreciated and pleasant bonus courtesy of the Indigo League itself, ensuring their newly crowned master a safe journey over. But unless it had glass windows that could deflect bullets or super power attacks, it didn't really ensure much of anything besides a speedier ride.

Nonetheless, Drake couldn't begin to describe how the air-conditioning was sublime and how he was truly thankful for it. It was better than baking out in the hot sun on the sidewalk as they walked along tiredly. However, while Jay had earned an expensive car, he wasn't given much cash. That supposedly wouldn't happen till after the ceremony when it all was made official, in case for some reason the master had the urge to run with the money and not _claim_ the title. A car but not much cash? Drake didn't fully understand the system, and didn't bother asking why.

"There is one place, though, that might be under our budget. And it is close by," the trainer soon explained, though he held back from saying more. He had accessed the website of that business, and skimmed through it a few times before dare mentioning to Jay. It was really their only option.

"At this rate, I'm willing to stay anywhere as long as I can rest my feet," Jay stated, feeling the aches in his body.

"Well I wouldn't say that just yet," his little brother urged. "How do you feel about staying at a bed and breakfast?"

"Aggh! A bed and breakfast is the best thing you can offer?" Jay moaned, not losing his cool, but enough to feel a shiver of repugnance. "They're like for retired couples who carry all their stuff in fanny packs and show pictures of their grand-kids to complete strangers."

It was the reaction Drake had expected.

"Since when is a bed and breakfast beneath you?"

"It's not," the master sighed. "It's just..." How could he put it? "Leah and Delia were never ones to advocate a 'bed and breakfast' vibe, you know? So I suppose I'm kind of anti-that now too."

A scoff flew from Drake's mouth. The explanation was rather predictable and in a sense understanding. However, was it really necessary for his wife and mother-in-law's views on bed and breakfasts to reflect on him and Drake simply staying for one _measly_ night?

"I can't believe I'm saying their business view on running an inn was a bad influence on you," the trainer declared, shaking his head. "At least in this case."

"Why? 'Cause I'm being uncooperative?" Jay mocked, making a face as he watched the road. "It's fine, we'll go there," he huffed loudly, seeing as he was too tired to put up a fuss. "Just tell me where I need to go."

"Let me pull up the directions." With a quick few clicks, Drake pulled up the directions in no time, watching what road they were on and matching it to the directions given on his phone. "You'll need to make a left on the next turn, then go straight and then another right on _Fisher's Lane_, and _then_ we should be there. It should have a big sign by the front gate. You can't miss it."

Jay raised his eyebrows, surprised, quickly glancing to his brother. "That easy?"

"That easy."

"Well, that makes things simple." Jay watched the road carefully, waiting for the left he was supposed to take. "What's it called, anyway?"

"_Kegs and Hops Bed and Breakfast,_" Drake informed. "Apparently, it is well-known for its various beers, a small pub, and flourishing gardens. It says every night they have a beer tasting that is hosted by the innkeepers as well as brewmasters."

A beer tasting, huh? With both men having a fondness for an occasional drink, it certainly was up their alley and the atmosphere sounded serene enough for it not to be filled with a bunch of drunk, overweight, wealthy men. It wasn't a typical bed and breakfast, which was innovative to attract other guests besides couples over sixty.

"Well at least it doesn't have a cutesy name. And there's beer," Jay managed to highlight with a subtle grin. Then, his eyes hardened again, catching sight of a sign. "Is this the left I'm supposed to turn on?"

His brother nodded. "Yeah."

As Jay turned swiftly, Drake shoved his phone in his back pocket, soon pulling out a brochure he managed to snag at the front desk of the Pokémon Center. And not only had the center run out of rooms, but they also were running out of those flimsy folded papers too. "Looks like the festival's holding a lot of events," the trainer commented, skimming through all pages, "and even some acts from out of town."

"Any close to home?" Jay casually asked, referring to Pallet.

"Well, there is an act coming from Cerulean." Drake read the text a bit closer, and then shot a look at his brother. "Have you heard of the Sensational Cerulean Sisters?"

Jay wanted to snort at how ridiculous it sounded. "I think so. Aren't they the former gym leader's daughters?"

"I believe so." Drake attention traveled back to the brochure, feeling brave enough not to get car sick and to read some of the information out loud. "It says they do underwater ballet shows, and apparently their youngest sister, the gym leader, came with them for a panel to give tips on training water Pokémon."

"Really?" Jay said, somewhat earnestly surprised.

"Yeah. I don't think we'll want to see the water show, but I think hearing what the gym leader has to say might be interesting."

That was fair enough. Ballet wasn't something either man indulged in, and had had their fill when living with their parents. All those plays and musicals Emily in particular made the family go to, whether they were strictly performed by the local dance company Annie and Zelda attended, or a theater with a professional cast. The time Drake recalled going to one of those was when he was fourteen. It was the _Nutcracker,_ and he could hardly sit still between all the long dance numbers, the frilly costumes, and the need to empty his bladder but the theater attendants insisted nature had to wait till the end of act two or whatever it was. That was enough to turn him away from most live performances, and Jay too had his own fill and own personal stories.

Jay's eyebrows narrowed as he continued to focus on the road. "Last time I checked, the gym leader is a teenage girl. I don't think what she'll be saying is anything we haven't heard before."

Okay, so he wasn't up for the water show or the panel. But Drake didn't think it was compulsory to turn down both events.

"Okay fine, you make a point," the islander agreed as an equally trained and informed trainer. "But at least it's a good way to kill some time. She seems like a smart young lady and from what the brochure says, people have enjoyed her panel."

A smart young lady... Jay wondered if that was just the publicist's way of inflating the water gym leader's talents and brains for attracting amateurs thirsty for tips, or if this girl really knew her stuff. He was, after all, well informed in the training business and had learned plenty of it all on his own with just his Pokémon and his natural instincts and connections on the road. However, it wasn't as if Jay's pride was so strong he'd snub anyone else experienced in the field. It was just that they only had so much time, and if it was going to be wasted it should at least be wasted to their benefit... He probably was overthinking it, and in the end of his inner monologue there really wasn't any harm in listening to the girl. It would at least secure the hope that young trainers still had wits and skills.

"Fine, but we won't stick around for long," he at last agreed, but stayed reserved on the matter.

Drake nodded with a sigh, none to his surprise. "I know, I know."

Eventually, after heading straight for a good while and making that tricky right, the brothers arrived at their destination. There was confusion, however, by the lack of a sign Drake promised would be there, and by the slight change of decor and color on the building. Regardless, the pair pulled into the driveway, examining the property through the car windows themselves.

"So is this the place?" Jay threw a glance to his brother for verification as they remained seated in the car.

"Guess so. But..." Fingers fidgeted with the phone as Drake shot his gaze down, double-checking he hadn't made a misstep. But he hadn't. Then, he flew his eyes back up. "Looks different from what we saw online."

"Maybe they have a new owner?" the master suggested.

"Maybe. I guess there's only one way to find out."

From there, they wandered aimlessly with their small bundle of luggage in tow, finding the entryway of the establishment to be the opposite of what they expected. It was very drab. Boring dark shades, but with vibrant patterns on wallpaper and outdated designs on furniture that screamed inspiration from a time where governesses and carriages were present. It was certainly not what they were expecting.

The pair wandered their gaze across the room with befuddled looks.

"What are we, in the eighteen-hundreds?" Jay grumbled, loud enough for his brother to hear, though.

However, before Drake could reply a presence scurried around the corner and soon settled behind a big wooden desk completed with a calendar, business cards, a bell, a phone, and a large bouquet of dried up hydrangeas. It was a woman, older than the two men standing before her, with dishwater blonde hair and faint wrinkles accompanying her face. She wore matronly clothes and bore a bob with bangs that went straight across her forehead. Clearly, she was behind a couple of decades pertaining to style and dress.

"Well, hello there!" the older woman called in a friendly tone. "My name is Nancy. How can I help you gentlemen?"

"We need a room for two please," Drake spoke up as they approached the desk, "and just it's for one night."

"Okie dokie, I can for that for you! And are you paying with cash or-"

"Debit."

"Alrighty then."

Once Drake pulled the card out of his wallet, Nancy took it promptly, scanning it and punching in the total. Jay's eyes kept wandering around the room, an unsettling feeling riding in the pit of his stomach. This was definitely _not_ what he was expecting.

"Um," he spoke up, adjusting his throat, "we noticed that the place is a little different. _Very_ different."

"Have you been here before?" the older woman probed, beaming up at him.

Jay shook his head. "Oh, no. We just perused the site. And it um, well-" he paused, biting back the words he wanted to say as he examined the area, "it didn't quite look like this."

"I see. I'm the new owner, but my staff and I haven't had a chance to change the site yet, but we sure will get to it!" Nancy clarified with a little too much peppiness that it almost sounded unnatural. "The owners before went bankrupt and had to sell the place, so we've been busy bees trying to refurbish it!"

Never did either Drake or Jay imagine hearing the proclamation of bankruptcy in such an upbeat and enthusiastic tone.

"Really?" Drake asked, trying to remain affable.

"Oh, yes. Wasn't it wacky?" she suddenly said, referring to the establishment before her. "Interesting you know, but a little too wahoo! It was just too risqué, I don't care for beer. It attracts the wrong crowd. I don't think it really fits a breakfast in bed vibe."

Well, she sure didn't mind throwing out her opinion, nor bothered to care how anyone else took it.

Jay faintly smiled back with a sarcastic hint. "No, you wouldn't want to do anything out of the norm."

"Okay, room number five is all yours!" Nancy announced, handing over a key from the draw in the desk. "Welcome to the _Thornfield Hall Bed and Breakfast_." Her smile widened, her hands extended as if inviting them into the world of cotton-candy and gumdrops. They both sweat-dropped.

Jay slipped a tiny uncomfortable smile. "Unique name. I'm gonna consult with my brother for just a second," he stated, motioning his head off to the side.

He then grabbed Drake by the arm swiftly, and twirled him around leading him a few feet away from the awaiting Nancy. Hunkered down in a hunched position, Jay peered over his shoulder, finding Nancy still smiling only to have him swivel his head back with a cringe. He then drew close to his brother's ear in a soft but stern whisper.

"Let's leave this place," Jay quickly hissed.

Drake gave him an incredulous look. "And sleep where?"

"A hollow tree, a river bank, the sidewalk, I don't care!"

"This place is in our budget."

"Yes and the sidewalk is for free."

Drake sighed, feeling his soles ache under his weight. "Jay, I'm tired and I'm starving."

"She named the place after the estate in _Jane Eyre,_" he kept persisting, undeniably determined to state his case. "All she needs is a mentally ill woman locked up in one of the highest rooms, and it will successfully be in my top ten worst nightmares!" Jay added more dramatically, however, so true to the novel's content.

"And being mugged and beaten while sleeping on the sidewalk and being mistaken for a hobo is in my top ten," the trainer rebutted, feeling this was an utter waste of time. While Jay may have made valid reasons as to why they _shouldn't_ stay, it didn't discourage Drake enough to turn away. And certainly didn't make him feel as if there was an unstable being secured in a room no one knew about.

With a stomach begging for nutrients and seeing he was getting nowhere, Jay growled sourly and flashed begrudging eyes. "Fine! Point the way to room five, please," he requested once he turned his attention back to an anxious Nancy.

The older woman bounced happily, coming around the desk towards them. "I'll take you there in just a jiffy! Let me just grab your bags-"

"Oh no, I've got mine," Jay hastily insisted, swiping the suitcase swiftly before the tips of her fingers had a chance to make contact. He had valuables in there, things Team Rocket would want, which meant they were objects he'd rather not trust in the hands of a quirky woman. So, he brilliantly fibbed an excuse. "We wouldn't want a lady such as yourself to carry burly bags that men can easily lift."

Nancy's face flushed, placing a hand over one of her cheeks. "Oh you are such a charmer, thinking about a pretty lady!" she gushed, giving the men a smile before dashing ahead of them.

Jay's facade slipped, slightly irked by the woman's reaction. "Pretty?" he repeated, looking to Drake.

He knew what Jay meant. "Don't be rude," Drake mumbled.

As they waltzed behind a chattering Nancy, the owner led the brothers down a hall before freezing in the middle of it. She ended their journey in front of a door, coaxing them in after to present their room. Though as the pair took their first step into the designated room, they were both taken aback, but one in particular accidentally released an exclaim of shock.

"-Aaah!"

Nancy twirled on her heels, looking to Jay with a greatly concerned and addled expression. "What is it, sir?"

Jay blinked, centering himself as if realizing he had been the one to let out the distracting gasp. He hadn't meant to, but the decor was just so- "Uh," he started awkwardly, kicking his brain into gear, "there's just a lot of-"

"An abundance of flowers," Drake answered for him, finding himself overwhelmed as well.

"Yeah, it's not very- well you know-"

"A masculine room-"

"For two intellectual, masculine guys," Jay finished, attempting to bare a smile that didn't speak of insult.

But it was rather hard to do so. The room was very much- hideous. Though neither man was in tune with decorations, they had enough sense to see what was too much or too little. All the walls were covered in dark green wallpaper, with vibrant violet and blue tinted flowers cascading in all directions down the walls, consuming the room in one disastrous sea of distaste. Thankfully, though, the bedspreads consisted of mundane shades, relating back to the time era the establishment was trying to relate to; same with the lamps and wobbly unfinished desk and chair. But it wasn't enough to make up for the fact that no matter where one flashed their gaze, they'd be hypnotized by those taunting blooms.

"Oh don't you fret, this is completely masculine friendly," Nancy assured, ignorant to it all. "You know, I've had many men compliment this room for its calm setting. Looking at all of this helps one unwind and relax, and escape one's hectic life," she went on with her hands on her hips, and soon breathing in a scent as if actual fragrant flowers seeded themselves on the walls. "Like you're actually in a field of flowers."

Jay begged to differ.

"Uh, I don't know about that-"

"I've gotten so many compliments on this room in general, that it makes me want to change the bed cover with more flowers."

"No, I think there's enough," Drake insisted this time, feeling the start of throbbing eyes. "Just enough."

Dismissing their comments as if she never heard them, Nancy flashed another foolish grin in attempt to make conversation. "Say, what business are you two in, anyway?"

Jay's eyes hastily traveled to Drake for help, but all he got was a blank stare. Those flowers were just so distracting. So he conjured up his own little tale. "Uh, well my brother is an-" _something boring_, Jay thought with a harmless snicker. "An accountant and I am a writer."

"A writer? What kind of stories do you write?" Nancy exclaimed, intrigued, and while she did so Drake shot his big brother a disapproving look. An _accountant_ and _he_ got to be the writer? He didn't fit the accountant vibe! Did he appear to be wearing glasses, styling a bow tie, _and_ holding a calculator?

"Oh you know, murder mysteries, suspense/thrillers," Jay answered as if he had written for years. "My current project focuses on the premise of a man who is staying at a bed and breakfast, much like this, and he's on the run thanks to a crime boss who has been hunting him down for the last ten years because he killed his mother who was the original founder of their mad organization. I'm getting good feedback on it from my editor."

Drake scoffed under his breath. Unbelievable._ Completely_ unbelievable.

Way to be inventive.

"My, my!" the older woman exclaimed, as if truly scared. "That sounds spooky and very- outlandish!"

Jay bit his lip, then formed a tiny smirk with trailing eyes. "Well, it's not as far-fetched as it sounds-"

"Now if you need anything you just ring down, or come down," Nancy suddenly announced, already jumping to another topic. However, her eyes traveled to an absentminded Drake, catching him off guard with another silly smile. "I don't mind the company."

Jay repressed a snort, holding himself together while she went off to mention another thing. "Oh, and I wanted to give you our activity list! Never a dull moment around here!"

"That's okay," Drake said politely, holding a hand up, "we're just staying for one night-"

"Oh no, I insist! I'm sure you'll find something you'll want to do while you're here." She nearly shoved the flimsy piece of paper into Drake's grasp, and then before he could try to return it she ventured to the door. "Now, I will leave you two to get settled. Enjoy the list!"

Drake looked down at the paper. Crosshatching and bird watching. Fun. "Oh sure. Thanks."

"Thank you," Jay added.

Right then, Nancy finally made her grand exit with a little wave. Then, as the door clicked shut, both men let out a heavy sigh.

Before a minute passed, a mischievous twinkle sparked in Jay's eyes and soon he grew a similar grin at his little brother. "I think Nancy was giving you the eye with that friendly invite," he warned, stirring trouble.

A huff flew out of Drake's mouth with a narrowing of brows. "Shut up." He knew Jay was joking, albeit he didn't need to be reminded that he was somehow a girl magnet... to the young_ and_ old. And to girls he wasn't falling for. With another sigh, Drake ventured across the condensed room and slumped at the end of his now chosen bed, staring down at the floor with a stretch of his arms. "Well, at the very least we can be assured that Giovanni's goons won't come looking here," he said, folding his arms and placing his hands behind his head.

"No one in their _right mind_ would come looking here," Jay countered, still standing.

That was about the only thing in their good graces presently. Team Rocket would never suspect two grown men to venture off to a bed and breakfast, especially one like this. In a sense, the Pokémon Center being completely full had done them a favor, preventing villains from crashing into their rooms and possibly other trainers' as well.

Striving to find something else to stare at that wouldn't give him a migraine, Drake's gaze led him to what appeared to be a large shallow book on top of the worn desk.

He rose slightly from his seat, taking a step forward. Then, he identified the object. "Hey, look. There's a guest book."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "People actually wrote in it?"

"Looks like it." He joined Drake at his side, watching his younger brother flip the guest book open to a random page. And surprisingly, there were signatures and descriptions. Eventually, Drake's eyes fixated on one in particular. "Hmm... here's one: This room brought utter peace to my soul. I have never felt so cleansed before in my life."

"Yuck!" Jay childishly spat, turning his head away only to stare at another display of hideous decor.

"Here's another one: My wife and I had many splendorous nights during our stay. One of those nights in particular brought upon the conception of our-"

"Stop, stop! Stop right there!" The waving of Jay's arms and his demanding hollers stopped Drake abruptly, barely realizing what he was reading till the near end of the sentence. A loud scoff of disgust bounced out of his mouth. "God, what is wrong with people?"

"Why would anyone want to do it in here?" Drake inquired seriously, setting the book down. It wasn't his intention to read _that,_ and never wished to bring up the subject of those abhorrent flowers again.

"You'd have to be drunk and blind to want to. I don't even think someone as old as Nana would like this room, and she's getting up there!" Jay compared, gawking at the room once more.

"No one in their _right mind_ would like this room."

Jay just huffed at that, his displeasure and sheer shock seeping through his tone and words. "Yeah, well tell that to Granny: I hate beer and it should burn in eternal damnation, but I'm gonna name my bed and breakfast after a place most people would run the opposite direction from. God, who names an establishment after a Bronte sister's novel?" he asked, though his question wasn't intended on being answered. "That just screams for a ghost who is forced to walk the earth eternally for their misdeed!" A step forward immediately snapped Jay's train of thought, finding the front of his right foot balancing along a shaky broad with loose nails. His eyes widened, trouble sparking in his eyes again. "Oh, wouldn't you know?" he said, looking to Drake while wiggling the broad. "This floorboard is loose! I wonder if _Nancy_ knows about this-"

"Stop," Drake ordered firmly. "This isn't the work of Poe, either."

He wasn't about to be led to believe that the owner of the establishment had someone buried underneath their room either. And that they'd start hearing what sounded similar to a pounding heart.

Jay made a face. "Why do you have to squash my jokes?"

"Because they're inappropriate."

"Inappropriately hilarious_ and_ true," he corrected.

"_Partially_ true," Drake rephrased in return. "Listen Jay, we'll be going to the festival soon enough, which means we will hardly spend any time in here."

The festival... Now that looked like a blessing to Jay, too. Even with going to an overcrowded attraction and sleeping in a room that would give one nightmares, Jay supposed some luck was on their side. After all, there was no Team Rocket.

For now.

"Thank God for that," grumbled Jay, trying to shake off the indescribable feeling he had for the room. But could not. "I still can't fathom how anyone can get their freak on in here."


	3. Revelations

**Author's Note: **

Hey everyone! Things are finally starting to get a move on in this chapter, and may I say this will especially be a treat to any Pokeshippers out there! Subtle but important hints they are! ;) Please enjoy, and thank you for reading!

**DISCLAIMER:** Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunlight's Return<strong>

**Chapter 3**

_Revelations_

"See anything?"

"Nothing yet."

"He's supposed to be here."

"Maybe his flight was delayed."

Cassidy shot her partner a sharp look beneath teal tainted sunglasses. "It _wasn't_, Biff. God, I'm tired of watching for nothing," she moaned, clenching her now cold cup of coffee. Then, her eyes intensified aggressively, focusing once again on the heap of people roaming and chattering before them. The crowd they were supposed to blend in with without any suspicious eyes. "Those idiots better have gotten the right city or I swear I'll send back a report of their insolence to the boss."

And Cassidy wasn't pussy-footing around. Just two weeks ago Giovanni approached the two agents on an important mission, a mission he was now handing over to them._ Entrusting_ them to complete the task with zero nonsense and delay. Ten years of waiting had been long enough, and Giovanni's patience had finally run dry. And they got the violent, passionate end of it with his hatefulness towards the man who had been causing him nothing but trouble. Project H their boss called it... Neither Cassidy nor her partner had ever heard of it before, realizing then that it was a top secret project, only for the best of the best to take part in. Which made their place on the food chain clear. So between their boss's serious words and the retired Brimble's fair amount of warnings, it was evident to Cassidy and her male companion that this expedition wasn't going to be any cakewalk. Tons of research, filling their brains on every little detail about their target through endless reports, what he possessed, what he knew, what he was capable of, was exactly how they recently spent their time. That is, till the grunts assigned beneath them informed the duo that their prey was located and that he apparently purchased a flight over to Fuchsia. And not just for himself.

But for someone else as well.

With an irritated huff, Butch sucked in a deep breath of the cool air of the airport lobby, scanning his eyes over to the side with a faint grumble. "It's _Butch_..." He and Cassidy had been teammates for close to_ six years_, and even at that she could never get his name correct. Nor could anyone for that matter. Nevertheless, no matter how many instances he had been called by other names, the aggravation from being called Biff to Chuck could not waver.

Turning his focus back on the sea of people, Butch was suddenly blindsided by a speedy thin object that crashed directly into his face. Stumbling back with his own cup of swishing chilled coffee, he removed the item off his face, finding it to be nothing but some pesky flyer that probably escaped the hands of a tourist. He blinked, shaking his head from the surprise, and soon began to read.

Then, his eyes widened.

"Hey, Cassidy," Butch motioned, waving the paper. "Look at this."

Cassidy whipped her gold locks around, glaring in exasperation at her partner. "Arrgh, what is it now?!" she griped, impatient from all the inactive waiting.

"Look for yourself."

Keeping himself from losing his own cool, he handed the paper over to his teammate, only for her snatch it from his grasp as if he was nothing but an annoyance. At first, Cassidy presumed it was an ad for a local restaurant. After all, Butch had been whining about his rumbling stomach, even after she permitted them to glance away long enough to snag an iced coffee and a bran muffin. Though to her surprise- once she started to read, Cassidy's expression lightened quickly, looking back to her partner with a plain stare.

"A festival," she said.

This caused Butch to smirk, taking a sip of his drink. "Bet a lot of trainers will be there. And perhaps_ him_, too. You said the guys claimed he bought a plane ticket to Fuchsia, so maybe he's already here. At that festival. After all," he continued methodically, gesturing towards a pair of excited kids with matching Caterpie, "that festival is specifically for Pokémon trainers and fans."

Instantly, Butch caused Cassidy to grin the biggest grin she had in weeks. "Good thinking," she praised, looking up from the paper. "A festival would be the perfect hiding place, especially at night."

"And if nothin' else, we could nab whatever Pokémon we find at that silly festival," Butch added, matching her smile.

"True," Cassidy agreed. Then, her eyes gravitated back down, her attention solely absorbed in the graphic art and bold words across the flyer. "But I have a feeling our true target is there. Hiding right underneath our noses."

* * *

><p>Evening hours crept closer to the small town of Pallet, but the bright cast of sun rays streamed predominately by summer's reign.<p>

It was a few minutes till six, the warmth of the dimming light still going strong with sweltering dwellers on earth. Shrubs lay in a prestigious driveway, busy soaking in the light pouring from the sky, and the sways of perfectly trimmed grass moved by soft gusts of pleasant winds.

Nothing on the Ketchum estate had changed. Not from what Ash could tell.

The teenager's observant eyes loomed over the familiar surroundings, smiling a little to himself and then faltering. There was something strange swirling inside of Ash, something he tried to pinpoint. Standing outside of his grandparents' small mansion brought upon memories, both bad and good. However, plenty of fond ones stood out, enough to make him marvel how many of them there were and how time had flown by. First, the glimpses of his early childhood in that house, to never entering the dwelling again, to at last, some forgiveness and acceptance for Ash to be able to introduce some of his travelling companions to his grandparents. Yes, a lot had changed.

But some things hadn't.

"Wow..." Ash gaped slightly at the large home before him, standing in his finest clothes for dinner with his mother at his side and Pikachu, resting comfortably on his shoulder. "Can't believe it's been this long since we've done this."

"Pika..." Pikachu cooed softly to himself, also admiring his surroundings.

Delia breathed in the summer air and sighed, looking up at the home herself. "I know..."

She had her own memories and feelings about the place. A lot with Ash, but some without. Most before his time. After all these years, Delia still never felt she could fully get over the feeling she was consumed with when she first stepped foot into her husband's previous home. It had felt less uncomfortable and more natural over their first few years of marriage, and yet- before Delia could fully get used to it again, a presence vanished.

A short pause of silence claimed the air, till a swift swivel of Ash's head drowned it out. "Hey Mom?" he called.

Delia's gaze didn't shift, but she listened attentively. "Hmm?"

"Do you remember that one time we stood out here?"

In that instant, Delia's gaze broke and returned her son's question with a confused expression. "Honey, there have been several times we've stood out here."

"I mean- _You know_," Ash continued with a hint of obviousness that could not be hidden by the mischievous smile creeping on his face. "The time when Dad told that crazy fairy tale just so we had less time with Grandma and Grandpa?"

That almost made Delia laugh. The silly, but pleasant thought burst from her mind as vividly she imagined her younger self standing exactly where she was with Jay by her side, and a very short impish Ash between them begging for his dear father to finish the invigorating and witty story.

Delia smiled and looked back up to the house. A heart-string was gently tugged at the mention. "He did that often, didn't he?... What are you getting at?" she suddenly asked with peculiarity.

At that moment, Ash's gaze flew to the other side, shyly; he seemed not to want to meet her eyes. "Well, since Dad's not here-" He gulped, and looked back at her with a sheepish grin. "Could you tell a story?"

By his request, Ash would have sworn his mom would frown, but to his surprise, instead her smile remained. She fumbled a little, shaking her head with a heavy sigh. "Oh, Ash. Don't be ridiculous. You're not six anymore, and I am not about to do something so childish only to cause a bigger rift with your grandparents. Though I have to admit..."

It was Delia's turn for her eyes to trail away, putting on her own ashamed grin for saying what was about to come out of her mouth next. "It was kind of funny," she admitted.

"_And _true," Ash retorted sharply with playfulness.

Coming to terms with their reality, Ash and Delia had become much more comfortable with the topic of Jay. It wasn't mentioned daily, but constant enough for it to no longer be taboo. And of course with the discussion of Jay open for Ash, questions of his estranged father were asked, and soon followed by more questions Ash was hungry to be fed answers. This eventually led to reminiscing on both Delia's and his part. Bittersweet it was, especially for a wounded Delia, neither one couldn't help but laugh at some of the antics he pulled to make them smile.

Thinking about such, Delia's eye twinkled with a similar but fainter naughtiness her husband bore in the past. "How about you ring the doorbell?" she suggested to her son, motioning towards the door. "Like Dad did."

Ash tagged along in his mom's little scheme, his smile growing wider. "And ask if I can do impressions of them?" he asked, pushing the limits as he pressed his index finger to the doorbell.

However, before they were swept up in their reenactment, the signaling of the doorbell called upon one of Emily's maids, who opened the door rather promptly with perfect posture and an unwrinkled uniform.

Delia blinked, taken aback by the help's quick arrival. "Oh, hello."

"Madame Ketchum is expecting you," the maid simply said, her accent showing through.

"Thank you."

As they entered, the maid closed the door behind them, greeting the guests with a gush of air-conditioned temperature. Soon after that, the hired help scampered off to the kitchen, most likely where she originated from. Delia hung her purse on the nearby coat rack, while Ash stood with a puzzled look as he watched the maid disappear around the corner. Something was off.

"Grandma's going by Madame now?" he whispered more so than questioned with a raised brow.

"I guess so," his mom shrugged, just as befuddled.

It wasn't really any shock, Emily having a maid with an accent or her being called the mistress of the house, only with a different version of the title. And since she was the mistress of the house, it was only a matter of time before Delia and Ash would bump into her, or for her to come down and greet them in her luxuriously decorated home-

"Ash, Delia! You're here!"

With them still standing quietly in the entryway, Emily beat them to the chase. Heads turning, they spotted the older woman at the top of the staircase. She had a smile so big on her face as she pranced down the steps, Ash wondered if he had ever seen his grandma grin like that.

Ash smiled back warmly as his grandmother approached them. "Hi Grandma. Thank you for having us over."

Nothing of Emily's appearance had made a drastic transformation, other than subtle wrinkles only a tad obvious to the naked eye. She still kept her dark brown locks in a shorter haircut, highlighting the strands with a dark red, which graced slightly past the mid-section of her neck, and her overpriced wardrobe was precise with matching colors. Very plain, but elegantly made.

Emily shot her grandson another radiant smile, and nodded. "You're welcome, dear. Come! Come!" she soon coaxed, leading the pair to the foyer eagerly. "We have so much to catch up on. I am dying to know all the details!" However, she abruptly halted in her footsteps, causing Ash and Delia to do the same. With taking in a breath, Emily's voice unexpectedly boomed to the other side of the house. "Richard, Ash and Delia are here!"

Ash and Delia turned their heads.

"I'll be there in a moment, Emily!" the three heard Richard call back, muffled but understandable enough behind the closed door of his private study.

That wasn't much of a shocker either. Richard was practically glued to that study, for work or recreational purposes. And in most instances he was alone.

Smiling faintly to himself, Ash looked back to Emily, forgetting to mention the even-tempered creature riding his shoulder. "You remember Pikachu, don't you Grandma?" he said, motioning towards his loyal animal with a scratch underneath the mouse's chin.

For a moment, Emily's smile slipped, but she withheld her opinion. "Yes, of course I do," she answered, regaining her pleasant tone. "I don't suppose you are willing to leave him in the back till we are through with dinner, are you?"

Ash glanced at his furry companion and shrugged. They had been through this before. "Wherever Pikachu goes, I go."

"Well," Emily sighed, seeing no real reason to argue, "just keep him off the furniture. I'll have Madeline fetch him a blanket to lie on."

When her children still resided in their first home, Richard's parents saw to it that their grandchildren had some kind of Pokémon for them to nurture and to be instill a little responsibility. To teach them to take care of another life. Of course, none of the children objected to such an offer, especially as a birthday present, sending Emily out and about to find the best Pokémon breeders. Over the years, her rugs and furniture mildly suffered from dog-like creatures racing about and laying every which way as if they were entitled. And as the least bit thrilled she was of having animals all over her house, seeing Ash standing there ever so happy- well, there was no point in refusing him. Not after all his time.

After her proposal, Emily called loudly again, only it was her maid Madeline to appear, rushing back with soft footsteps to her employer.

"Madeline," Emily started sternly.

"Oui Madame Ketchum?" the young woman bid.

"Go get a blanket from the utility closet for my grandson's-" She glanced at Pikachu and swallowed. "Rodent."

The maid nodded. "Oui Madame Ketchum."

With hurried but fluid steps, the maid took action and made way to her destination for the necessary blanket. Happy for her hired help's diligent work for once, Emily focused her gaze back to her daughter-in-law and grandson.

"That was Madeline, our new maid from Kalos," she explained, as if it was so normal. "She's fluent in French and in English and is constantly on the ball of things. Very much refreshing."

Delia nodded, not an ounce amazed by the hiring of a foreigner. "I see."

"Well enough about that, let's go into the sitting room and chat. Shall we?"

Already hurrying everything along, Emily started to make the way to the living room for her company, only to hear footsteps of another follow behind them. She recognized the sound and faint vibration, twirling to find her husband dressed as pristinely as usual, while shoving his glasses into the upper pocket of his jacket.

Emily smiled. "Ah, Richard. Glad to see you finally made an appearance out of that study of yours. I was beginning to think you were officially making it your new home."

"I was coming as fast I could," he explained, a little annoyed. "I was in the middle of settling a deal with Slateport."

"Well Slateport can wait. Look who came to visit!" she announced buoyantly, gesturing to their guests.

All the same by their arrival, Richard kept the same calm expression. "I can see, Emily, and I'm very glad they're both here." He turned his attention to their guests, at last wearing a faint smile. "How are you Ash, Delia? Pikachu?" he had to include with a soft chuckle. "I hope well."

"Good," Ash replied.

"Very good," Delia added.

Seeing the polite hellos were officially complete, Emily strutted over to the drink cart (which was still parked in front of the stairwell as if it never moved) and in the process, her journey over made it everyone's subconscious cue to sit down. "Well, what can I get everyone? Scotch for you, Richard?" the older woman asked, already picking up its halfway empty bottle.

Richard's knees creaked as he sat down on the sofa, located on the right side of the room. "Please."

Filling up the glass without a single drop missing, she placed her husband's drink aside and glanced to her daughter-in-law. "And you Delia?"

"Oh, a little white wine might be nice," the woman answered over her shoulder, settling down on the opposite sofa, with Ash at her side.

"Very well." Emily's hand reached for another perfectly polished glass. And then another. "And you Ash? I presume you want a club soda?" she answered for herself, seeing he was underage to drink anyway.

Ash glanced at his grandma shortly and nodded. "Yes, please."

While Emily worked away on everyone's drinks, beginning to pass Richard's out and then Delia's, she was stopped short by Madeline and her stoic expression.

"The blanket, Madame Ketchum," she offered, holding out a soft blue, thick, folded cloth.

Ash thought it appeared too nice, almost brand new, for it to be stowed away in a utility closet. The towels and old blankets that were in the closet at home actually looked like rags. Tattered on the edges and faint mud stains. Hence: _rags_.

Emily finished passing Delia's white wine to her. "Thank you, Madeline," she praised, jaunting back over to the drink cart. "Just hand it to my grandson."

Without hesitation the maid reached across from Delia, and held out the neatly layered cloth to the only person in the room who could be her boss's grandson. After all, Emily never bothered to introduce her family formally to her workers.

Ash smiled back genuinely and grabbed the blanket. "Thanks." From there as the maid exited, he stood back up, unfolding the blanket part way, making it long but cushy enough for Pikachu to lie on. Once placing it on the unscathed carpeting by his feet, Ash removed Pikachu off his shoulder, gently putting him down with a quick scratch on the noggin.

"Now you stay here, buddy. Okay?" The trainer hated to put his precious mouse there, not up with him snuggled in his lap, but he knew if he'd pick a fight with Emily about it, things would surely not end on good terms. And he had witnessed the ugly repercussions before with his parents, which scared him enough not to push. Besides, at least Emily had the decency to give him a warm spot to cuddle in rather than outside on the patio, watching everyone talk and laugh from inside.

"Pika," the mouse cooed in agreement, already making himself at home.

This made Ash's grin widen. If Pikachu wasn't going to fuss about it then he certainly wasn't going to.

At last coming over with her own martini and Ash's soda, Emily paused in her steps, staring at her grandson as he removed himself from his crouched position near the floor, ready to sit back down till-

"My goodness!" Emily outwardly exclaimed. Beaming with confusion, Ash looked to his grandma, only to see a bittersweet twinkle in her eye. Ash really had grown up. Grown up so handsomely into someone she knew so well. "Look at you!" she continued to marvel.

His eyes gravitated down to his ironed shirt and nice dark denim jeans, wondering if there was something wrong with him but found nothing. It appeared both Delia and Richard were catching onto Emily's words, both smiling at him with loving eyes. What was with everyone?

"You've just grown up so much," Emily at last explained. Finally understanding, Ash released a smile and nodded, thinking he was allowed to sit down only to be stopped again. "Turn around, turn around!" his grandmother ordered fervently, having him lazily move in a circle, feeling a little awkward. "My God Richard, look at him! Look how tall he's gotten!"

"He's a spitting image of a fine Ketchum man," Richard noted, smiling softly.

"Isn't he?" Emily went on as Ash stopped in his tracks. "And I think the smile helps."

Delighting in the praise, a soft chuckle leaped from Ash's throat. Okay, so he understood where they were coming from. They were his grandparents after all, relishing his great stride in maturity and awestruck by how fast time had flown. Everyone had felt that way, and Ash had to admit, he kind of liked the attention.

"I bet there are plenty of girls who you have caught the eye of," Emily hypothesized, seeing he bared the Ketchum features.

Ash shrugged modestly. "If I have I wouldn't know."

This made Emily laugh. "Oh, you are still as humble as ever!" Eventually, the older woman handed over Ash's soda and soon found a place beside her husband. Though she wasn't through staring at her grandson in amazement. "Doesn't he look like him, Richard? I mean really, doesn't he?"

Ash sat back down, intrigued. "Like who?"

Like he needed to ask.

"Like my father, Mordecai," Richard replied, "which would make him your great-grandfather."

"Oh."

That was a first.

"But you still bear a resemblance to Richard," Emily noted thoughtfully.

Her husband nodded in agreement. "Oh very much so, but I think it's the nose. It's that dominatant Ketchum blood."

Ash scrunched his face, his eyes darting to the snout they insisted was inherited by his paternal great-grandfather's genes. To him it was just a nose. No comparison to really anyone else's.

"Yes! It is! We will have to send an updated picture of him to your mother, so she can see," Ash's grandmother proposed, enthused by her own idea. "You have pictures, don't you Delia?"

"I can give Esther some more recent ones," Delia promised, taking her first sip.

"Wonderful!"

"I couldn't agree more!"

The enthusiasm for his heritage and sending his picture in the mail to his great-grandmother was quite pleasant, however... Sitting beside himself, Ash felt rather addled by Emily and Richard's statement of similarity. He always knew Ketchum features ran deep in the family. His Aunt Annie bared more of the Evans blood from Emily, but Zelda surely resembled a Ketchum too. And of course there was his dad... The person Ash had forever been compared to. For his good qualities inside and out.

Observing the ice cubes slosh by the movement of his hand, Ash piped up, breaking Emily and Richard's continual chatter. "Do I really look like him?" the teenager questioned with curious brown eyes. "'Cause I always thought I looked like Dad out of everyone."

Silence fell, and so did the smiles on his grandparent's faces. Stone expressions were cast instead, a restless tension rising through the air that pricked everyone's skin. Delia tried to bare a small smile, seeing she saw no reason to dismiss her son's thoughts, and what she considered to be true. On the contrary, Emily appeared severely cold and distant, as if her emotions just changed within a split-second of her estranged son's mention.

Richard on the other hand, did his best to remedy the situation. Even if it wasn't flawless.

"Well of course you look like your father, Ash," the teenager's grandfather said. "It's just your appearance reminded us of my father."

There appeared to be a slight agitation in Richard's voice, mostly from Emily's obvious state of discomfort, rather than Ash's bold claim. Nevertheless, Ash didn't push any further and nodded somewhat uncomfortably.

"O-okay."

"Yes, you do look awfully like-_ him_." Emily's sudden bitter agreement surprised all three of them. "Except you aren't frowning, or continuously checking the clock for you to conveniently leave."

Then it didn't.

Her grandson made a face. "Sorry?"

Richard waved his hand, immediately dismissing the futile apology. "Don't be. Now let's get down to business. How was your journey in its entirety?"

Finally, a more relaxing subject to discuss. Exerting an exhale, Ash's muscles grew less tense as did the anxiousness in his voice. Discussing the thing he knew best and always eased his anxiety.

"It was amazing," the trainer replied, experiencing the euphoria of his travels in one rush. "I don't really know where to start!"

"Caught more Pokémon, I presume?" Richard continued to pursue.

"A good few."

"But not too many?" the older man pressed, brows arched.

Ash laughed softly. "Nope. Not too many."

A pleased smile spread across Richard's lips. "Smart boy. It's quality over quantity. I was never the kind of trainer to catch every Pokémon I saw. I took in consideration what Pokémon were needed to build a proper team, and what kinds I already had. I hope you consider these things."

"I try to."

It was Richard's turn to laugh. "Fair enough."

It wasn't long till Emily felt well enough to jump back into the conversation, an attempt to lighten her damp spirits, to ensure a positive evening. She had, of course, been looking forward to Ash's return and for her and Richard to have a chance at reconnecting with him.

After taking a quick sip, she proceeded with another smug look of confidence. "Speaking of another young man who has matured handsomely and talks of travel, Gary is in town as well."

Ash nearly choked on his soda. "Gary?" he echoed, adjusting his stinging throat by the carbonation.

Delia never mentioned Gary was back in town. But with her being so busy at the inn, she most likely hadn't noticed. Not like Gary would pay a visit there anyway.

"Oh yes, he's been here for a couple of weeks now after finishing his internship with Prof. Rowan," Ash's grandmother started to elucidate with zeal. "He's been so highly praised by the man, that he's now taking some classes on various Pokémon research held at Viridian's community college for upcoming researchers. Predominately, though, he'll be studying fossil records. He actually came to see us-" she turned to her husband briefly. "What was it, Richard? Four days or so ago?"

"I believe so. He brought a very nice young lady with him too."

This only furthered Emily's enthusiasm as she gazed back at her guests. "Very nice! Well spoken, nicely dressed, and such a thoughtful girl too. She was kind enough to bring Richard and me a gift."

Delia nearly wanted to laugh out of spite on the last part. When she so graciously brought them a homemade peach pie, Emily snubbed her. So much for a warm welcome when first entering the home of her boyfriend's parents. And that wasn't even the worst of it. Nonetheless, Delia was glad Emily had somewhat loosened up since then. Even though if she only accepted Gary's supposed girlfriend because she met all of Emily's qualifications.

"What's her name?" Delia inquired.

"Her name is Harper," her mother-in-law replied. "They met in one of his classes. It seems they really hit it off," she added, a sparkle in her eyes as she gulped down another helping of her martini.

"Annie and Chad are happy with her," Richard bothered to mention, equally as delighted over the news.

"Who could blame them? Next to researching, she's the best thing that ever happened to Gary. I'm sure you'd get along well with her, Ash."

A girlfriend. The thought of someone tolerating Gary to such a level almost made Ash burst with chuckles. Like Ash himself, Gary had matured incredibly since his bully years. Not entirely different, but plenty different for him and Ash to reach some kind of peace on their end of ridiculous squabbles. And apparently, he had matured greatly to make a girl enjoy his company. To be so successful and praised in a field he was just beginning to chase after. But when was Gary not well liked and achieving higher things than the norm?

Ash nodded, a lack of excitement in his voice. "Yeah. I'm sure she's nice."

"Gary is supposed to be staying for the whole summer, so perhaps you two could catch up. Your mother tells us things have gotten better between the two of you."

Another nod followed, never denying a word his grandpa presumed. All the unnecessary fighting, hurtful words had faded for the most part, and now both he and Gary got on with their lives. However, they were still striving to be the best in their field of expertise. Yet why- why did Ash feel as if Gary was still ahead of him? Even if things had changed to a degree?

"Oh, yeah," Ash in time replied, feeling suddenly lowly and unsure. "Yeah, I guess they have."

* * *

><p>The festival was just as lively and bombastic as Jay and Drake expected.<p>

Not only were there various events hosted by Pokémon-based foundations/speakers for dedicated trainers (for that was its sole purpose for revenue), but there was a plentiful amount of attractions consisting from roller coasters, to Ferris wheels, water rides, and even a drop tower. None in which Jay wanted to participate in, however. He had experienced plenty of exhilarating and heart-pounding activities, which he wished not to repeat unless it was his last choice of survival. Thankfully, with understanding, Drake didn't push his brother, though it did limit greatly as to how they were going to spend their time. The brothers had tragically missed the panel by the time the pair escaped the hands of Nancy and fellow guests', of what they called an enticing round of _Clue_. And it was a special edition too! Nevertheless, the brothers made it out of the bed and breakfast unscathed, and journeyed just in time for the last showing of the underwater ballet performance. And it was either watch that or go to the nearby petting zoo that was set up for kids under the age of ten.

So they buried their painful childhood memories, and attended the show. To both their surprises, it wasn't too terrible. Actually, the effects and training of Pokémon was rather impressive, not to mention the skill the swimmers demonstrated under all the pressure of gawking eyes and lack of air. The story-line on the other hand...well, it was cliché, but simple and thoughtful enough for Jay to stomach without feeling he had been sucked into a teenage girl's favorite romance novel. Concrete and less on the level of extreme sappiness for the brothers to grab some dinner at the local dining hall, holding all kinds of traditional fair food. And to make up for the big letdown of their lodging earlier, Drake went out of his way to buy them each a beer as well, washing down the remaining bits of their dinner, while keeping casual conversations going.

But soon, Jay grew testy. Dark skies were beginning to fall upon the festival, fireworks being set off in the distance. Night was growing near.

Glimpsing around the big dining area, Jay's eyes narrowed. "We've been here for over four hours," he commented, looking to his brother and setting his finished beer down. "You've had your fun, now let's get out of here."

"We can stay a little longer," Drake pushed. _He_ was still in the middle of his drink.

But all he got was sterner icy blue eyes and an uncooperative tone. "No we _can't_, Drake. I told you, staying in place for too long never ends with a good result. I can't believe I'm saying this, but we need to head back to that God awful bed and breakfast."

Huffing, Drake submitted without a fight. He had pressed his desires of a real vacation enough on his worrisome brother already. "Fine," he breathed, reaching into his back pocket. "Just let me leave a tip."

"Well, hurry up," Jay ordered, already rising from his seat.

Feeling rushed, Drake slammed a few loose bills to the table and with a swift rise and turn out of his seat, he accidentally rammed into the shoulder of another person. Staggering backwards, the trainer refocused his gaze, finding a slightly off-balanced, young pink-haired woman before him.

"Oh!- I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, approaching her with genuine concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she whimpered, rubbing her bare shoulder. She looked oddly familiar to him, and once her unsteady sapphire eyes centered on the islander, they quivered with a shock that spoke of one reaction he had seen too many times before. But was never prepared for. With a soft gasp, the young lady's lips bloomed into a big smile, her hands clasping into excited fists, squealing in utter delight. "Oh my gosh! You're like him! You're actually him!"

Drake's forehead wrinkled. "Excuse me?"

Ignoring his reply, the woman released another loud squawk of adoration. That voice, that face, those mighty arms... Drake's voice was like music to her ears it caused her legs to turn to Jell-O. Swiveling lightly on her feet, the woman cupped a hand around her mouth, and used her other to wave in the air to draw attention from a short distance. "Daisy, Violet!" she called excitedly in a valley-girl accent. "You won't believe who I like just met!"

Instantly, two other women appeared as they pushed through the dense gathering area, reacting in similar manners as they caught sight of Drake standing before them. With graceful but hurried feet, they rushed to his side.

"No way!" the dark blue-haired young woman exclaimed, clasping her hands together in admiration at his side. "You're like Drake! Drake of the Orange Crew!"

Drake nodded steadily, watching them all closely. "Yes, I am."

At that point, Jay released a growl of irritation. This is what he got for asking his brother to accompany him. Not only did Drake have a swarm of fans, but the fan-base seemed typically consisting of- girls. Not all, but a good majority probably liked him solely for his looks rather than his brains. But who could blame them? Drake was attractive, sweet, kind, and a skilled trainer to top it all off. He always gave off the aura of being a typical person just like anyone else. Not some self-absorbed celebrity with an addiction or ego problem. He was someone to admire, easy to like. However, as glad as Jay was that his little brother did not get sucked into the world of egocentric folk, he did not appreciate that Drake never tried to draw boundaries. He was too shy. At this rate, Jay figured he might as well take on the role of bodyguard to shoo those drooling fan-girls away.

"It is like an honor to meet you! I'm Lily," the woman with the pink hair introduced herself, feeling brave enough to lay her fingers against his wrist. She shivered with blushing cheeks. "I'm guessing you saw me from my sisters' show? That's why you came here, right? You heard about our tour? I can tell you're like a cultured man!"

The islander nodded again, awkwardly keeping his composure. "I did see your show, yes." Even with fans back home, everyone on Pummelo knew who Drake was and treated him like a normal human being. He should have expected as much being outside of home-turf for admirers to leech onto him.

"Wow!" Lily continued to gush. "So you did actually come to our show! That's like totally awesome!"

"Did you like it?" another woman abruptly asked, before Drake had a chance to slip away. Instead, she took a step closer, standing inches away from his face with an adoring grin. "What was your favorite part? I'm Violet, Lily's older sister-"

"And I'm Daisy. Lily _and_ Violet's older _older_ sister," the tallest of three willingly elucidated, flipping her blonde locks flirtatiously with batted lashes. "I'm the star of the show."

It was inevitable for Drake to feel awkward around girls; not knowing what to say, how to handle the situation, even after he had been on plenty of dates. It just wasn't something he seemed to be able to master. It wasn't something natural to him like battling or surfing. Sometimes his past broken relationships made Drake wonder if it was simply him fumbling nervously over his words, being too big of a push-over, or that he tended to go out with a girl who called the shots solely, hardly letting him get a word in... Yet still, while the trainer wished for an everlasting female companion at his side, hopefully in the near future, this was definitely not how he planned on earning one. Or felt anything for those girls for that matter. It's just- how was he supposed to escape their rapture without coming off as snubbing their affections?

Fans or no fans, Drake wasn't about to be rude. Even it meant at the cost of humoring the three ladies a bit.

Drake just blinked, still drawn back from their encroaching approach. "Oh."

"And the director," Daisy bragged, hoping to hold his interest. "I've been in like tons of movies. Most direct to T.V. films, but my agent says I'm going to get a cast call for a big indie drama."

"Congratulations?" he replied, though for some reason the tone he produced sounded more like a question.

Daisy's giddiness, however, didn't pick up on it. "Wow! Thank you like so much!" she shrieked. She may have been a movie star in the making, but meeting someone as renowned as Drake of the Orange Crew was a magical moment she couldn't contain. "Would you like a drink?" she suddenly offered, but with much more control than her sisters had been displaying. "I would be more than happy to buy you a drink-"

"I've had plenty, but thank you," answered the islander, kindly dismissing the offer. With a holding up of his hands, Drake hastily flashed a gaze to his still standing-by brother, only to find him keeping to himself with a definite scowl on his face. Clearly, Jay was in no mood of humoring anyone. "Actually, my-" Finally, Jay's expression shifted, growing into a more panicked look causing Drake to consider his word choice carefully. So he did. "My friend and I have to get going," he concluded the ladies, motioning his head to his brother.

"Your friend?" It wasn't long before Daisy's gaze was the first to swivel, gleaming over her shoulder with brightly lit green eyes. A slimmer but ever still masculine frame concealed the Orange Crew Leader's supposed friend. A smile seeped from Daisy's lips as she eyed him thoughtfully. He may have been frowning, but he still was undeniably cute. "Oh, another tall, dashing, and _handsome_ man. I would have like sworn you two were related," she continued, looking back to Drake.

Drake sweat-dropped. "We get that a lot."

"Well that's only natural," Violet threw in, cocking her own lingering gaze at Jay. "Why don't we walk you guys out? Our trailer's like super close to the exit-"

"_We're_ fine."

Immediately, Drake sensed the sternness in Jay's voice, the annoyance vividly seeping through with his distant, detached eyes. Just glancing at him spoke of someone earnestly disinterested in the proposal. At least to Drake it did.

"No, we insist. It would be our pleasure," Daisy honestly replied. "And you have such a nice voice," she decided to compliment, lightly grazing his arm with fluttering eyelashes. "You_ both_ have like such great voices-"

"Like the superstars in black and white films!" Lily chimed in.

Jay narrowed his eyebrows, drawing back from the caressing of Daisy's fingers that ran across his upper arm. "Well I don't consider myself a Gregory Peck or Cary Grant," he spat not so politely with a sarcastic twist, keeping his arm guarded.

But she didn't catch on. "And you're so funny too! What an amazing package bundled up into one _amazing_ man-"

"_Draaake_. Can we go? _Now_?" he added, much more demanding between grit teeth.

The look of Jay's expression spoke of such desperation and awkwardness Drake didn't recognize him for a moment. He had never witnessed his older brother squirm so uncomfortably before, to_ plead_ for something. Well, he had seen Jay stumble into the lowest depths of his soul, but never about something like this. The situation was unexpected enough to be deemed as uncomfortable for the both of them, nevertheless Drake didn't think the ladies' intentions were of anything impure. They appeared too naive to dream up any kind of bad scenario. It was mindless flirting, simple as that, but Drake knew better than anyone that Jay was faithful to one woman and one woman _alone_. After all, he was hardly stunned by the three pretty girls before them.

Before Drake knew it, four sets of eyes, all different shades, looked to him for a final answer; one reading refusal, while the others read desperation. Drake bit his lip, trailing his focus to somewhere else. If their trailer was close to the exit than it hardly mattered. And the girls did appear harmless. Harmless avid fans nonetheless...

"Well, um..." Drake stopped stumbling and ended the nervous biting of his bottom lip with a civil gesture ahead. "Lead the way," he said.

The outbreak of thrilled giggles contaminated all three young women, having them rush playfully ahead of the men and so excitedly leading the way through the thick overbearing grouping of full dining tables. A scoff was produced loud enough from Jay's mouth for all to hear, but Drake quickly hushed him with an assured look that they'd be out of the festival perimeter soon enough. But then, the brothers' ears caught the sound of something intriguing.

"I wanna to give Drake my number," they heard Lily hiss as the girls huddled together while they strolled away.

"No, I do!" Violet retaliated in a similar harsh whisper. "The other guy's too old for me!"

Jay scoffed again. It wasn't as if he wanted to be with any of them. He most certainly did not. But she didn't need to make it sound like he was fifty or something!

"Then Daisy can have him," the brothers overhead Lily soon suggest.

A silly smile and chortle fell from Daisy's raspberry glossed lips. "I don't mind. I like them older and experienced," she added with another lingering eye.

At that instant, Jay went pale as a ghost. Sharp, mad and frantic eyes looked to an apologetic Drake.

Jay stifled a gulp, but his inner-thoughts carried on anxiously. _Oh, God... I knew we should have left earlier!_

* * *

><p>Even as the minutes ticked by, the waiting for dinner gurgling Ash's stomach, he somehow found himself doing a lot of talking. Or a lot of the talking consisted around him. He went into more depth about his recent travels to his grandparents, what places he liked, what humorous or life-changing moments he had along the way, and of course leaving out any details of dangerous situation he somehow winded up in the middle of. All in all, it was all fairly pleasant even with Emily's nosiness, Delia's quiet presence, and Richard's vivid attempts at jumping in on the conversation. Everything seemed to be civil, quaint like Ash had hoped it to be without the stirring of trouble. There was, he felt, something hanging in the air that he did not fully like; nevertheless, he let the unsettling feeling go by the wayside, knowing it was impossible for every irksome feeling to be erased.<p>

Taking another light sip of her drink, Emily posed another question to her grandson. "How have all your friends been doing?"

"Pretty good," Ash answered. "I try staying in touch with them all, but it's hard to keep up sometimes."

"It's understandable. You can't make time for everyone with the schedule you've got. From what I've learned in life, it is your dearest friends that you seek the most time for."

Ash frowned a little at this. He understood her viewpoint, but with his kind heart he took the liberty of checking on all his friends once in a while- even if it meant he forgot some people in between. But still, it was never his intention to hurt anyone. "I suppose," he started, "but I do try to-"

"Speaking of which, how is your one friend doing? The girl with the red hair. Oh, what was her name...Missy?" Emily at last declared, as if her memory bank was fussy.

Ash gave his grandmother an odd look. "Uh, I think you mean _Misty_," he corrected.

As he lay on the blanket, Pikachu's ear pricked up at the mention of his master's old friend, recognizing its implications to a face.

Emily's expression brightened. "Ah yes, Misty! So have you two kept in correspondence?"

The teenager considered his response, swishing the ice cubes in his soda around. "Um, on and off."

"How's she doing? She was a delight to have here last time, wasn't she Richard?"

Now Emily was looking to her husband, as if he was about to join in on the little scheme she was pulling. At least, Delia sensed the tone Emily was attempting to set.

"Oh yes, very much so," Richard agreed neutrally. "I enjoyed meeting all your friends."

"But _she_ was particularly memorable," his wife persisted, as if hinting he should catch on.

With firmly shut lips, Delia kept her comments at bay. Since when did Emily take the time to get to know Misty? She had only visited with the girl on an occasion, and discovered her findings about her through article clippings and what Ash had said about her. If any of Ash's family members went out of their way to truly know Misty as a person, it was Delia. After all, ever since she became the permanent gym leader of Cerulean, Misty snatched her free opportunities to come visit her old friend's mom. They had, in a way, become like mother and daughter. The visits weren't always consistent, but they were there and Delia never minded being a surrogate mother to the orphaned red-head.

The apparently successful _and_ well-endowed red-head because of her families reputation.

"I saw in the newspaper that her sisters are doing a regional tour of their shows," Emily began to declare, acting as if this was exceptional.

Ash's eyes widened. "They are?"

"Yes, and it also says Misty has blossomed beautifully as a gym leader over these last few years. She even held a few panels for water type trainers this year. Quite impressive for a girl her age, don't you think?" Emily nudged again with a glisten in her brown eyes.

What was Emily doing? Simply admiring Misty's big accomplishments or trying to play matchmaker without anyone's permission and acceptance? What was next? Her conjuring of what their perfect child would look like? Pitch black locks with stunning sea-green eyes? Delia could feel her nerves spark with slight discomfort, a flame of indignation growing inside of her, like the poking of coals against new wood to start a fire.

However, Ash remained unsuspecting of the heavy-handed hinting. "I guess so," he shrugged. "I'm happy for her, and I knew she could it. She has a lot of potential as a trainer."

"Does she ever?" Emily gushed. Like she knew anything about training. "You should invite her over sometime. It would be nice to catch up with her. I'm sure she has transformed into a beautiful young lady."

"Oh, sure. I can give her a call."

It was as if a hallelujah choir sang above the older woman's head, like she had permission to persist. "Wonderful! And I'm sure your mother would enjoy chatting with Misty."

Like she hadn't done that before.

Delia smiled faintly, impartial to her mother-in-law's scheme. "Oh yes, Misty is always welcome at our house."

And she was. Never did Delia think Misty was lower than them; not "good enough" for Ash to be on an intimate level. Misty was a person of good character, easy to trust, responsible at heart, a real considerate and gentle young lady beneath that tomboy exterior... Come to think of it, Delia supposed she wouldn't mind them dating at all. The thing was Delia wasn't sure if she was ready for any of that. At least not without a clear warning. And she didn't want it to happen unless both Ash and Misty _wanted_ such a relationship. Not for them to be pushed together based on the fact that Misty's family had enough money to make Emily notice them.

"Mom always invites Misty over," Ash innocently added. "Don't ya, Mom?"

He looked to her with such pleasant eyes, but Delia knew all too well what Emily was trying to do. "I do," the woman answered carefully, gazing back to her mother-in-law. "When she's in town. Usually, she's busy helping Prof. Oak and Tracey, though."

"But she _does_ make time to see you."

That Delia could not deny. "I suppose so, yes."

A satisfied grin stretched across Emily's face, her posture strengthening to something twice as high and mighty as it already was. Then, her gaze gleamed to Ash with a tip of her martini glass. "Well then, to me it sounds like you two have already hit it off," she deduced, sipping away.

Ash instantly made a face. "Hit _what_ off?" his tenor voice asked with sheer puzzlement.

As she predicted, Ash made way to Delia's eyes as if somehow she held the answer for him. Ash may have matured greatly, but his ignorance to obvious things was still intact. It took a little more heavy implying for him to catch on, and Delia wasn't about to explain the lunacy falling from Emily's mouth. Where was Jay when she needed him?

"Nothing, honey," Ash's mother answered, her calmness not wavering.

However, Emily had to cut in. "Why, you and Misty!" she exclaimed stealing their attentions. "You two being an _item_."

Those key words made every implication at last clear to Ash. A _stupefied_ Ash.

A sudden heat dusted the teenager's cheeks, with that following a light choke on his soda. Stupidity and embarrassment were the feelings grazing on Ash's self-esteem. How could he have not seen that coming miles away? How could Emily even think something like that? The instinct to reply leaped from his mouth without hesitation. But he chose his words carefully, witnessing somehow by all of this that his grandmother was strangely- _pleased_. "Uh, I think you got the wrong idea, Grandma," Ash said, hoping the heating on his face hadn't become noticeable. "Misty and I are just friends."

"You may be now, but in a few years' time things can change! Ask your _mother_."

In a few years... Emily's words were beginning to taunt him. Make him realize what his own subconscious had been doing. If anything, Ash found himself thinking about Misty more often; wondering what she was up to, how she was doing, when they'd see each other again. He thought it was simply out of curiosity, out of friendly concern, but now...

This time, Delia could feel her cheeks flush as her son swept his gaze to her, cocking his head to the side with an expression that she mostly read as confusion. She knew quite well what Emily was implying, however she didn't find it appropriate nor was she comfortable with the topic of discussing her teenage romance with Jay or the possibility of Ash having his own as it was.

"Well I think it's only natural for a couple to start out as friends," Delia replied evenly without losing herself. "To get to know one another."

"You're right, Delia," her mother-in-law shockingly agreed. In a patronizing tone, nonetheless. And followed up with a contradiction. "But in some instances friends just- what's the word? _Click_. That they know what they want, _who_ they want without question. Without _anyone's_ opinion."

It was another jab Delia wasn't sure she could take, and the gripping on her wine glass was evidence of that. Why was she the main target of tonight? At least, that's what the woman was sensing. Delia behaved fairly decently with Emily over the phone, allowed her to participate in their preparations for the party even though she practically harassed her for such, agreed to let her arrange dinner plans for that evening even though there were already some set in stone, and the mother made sure both she and Ash were wearing "appropriate attire" for the meal.

So why? What were the remarks about? Was it because of the accidental mention of-

"I really don't see the need to discuss this."

Right then and there, the conversation halted. Snatching everyone's undivided attention, Richard sat quite calmly next to Emily, as if the looks of surprise didn't bother him.

And Emily was the first to comment.

"What on earth do you mean, Richard?"

"Well there's no need for Ash to be romantically involved this minute," he began to explain logically, without sounding as if he was opposing his wife. "Most boys his age aren't emotionally mature for that kind of commitment. No offense Ash, but it is a proven fact."

Ash raised his hands, thankful. "No offense taken."

Still utterly astonished by his intervention, Delia gawked at her father-in-law, only to have him, even more amazingly, wink back at her, as if saying he resolved the whole unbearable mess his wife made. Delia smiled a little at this, nodding just soft enough for only Richard to see as a thank you, and then, he went back to wearing his plain expression as if no silent exchange had ever been made. Went back to bearing listening ears, and hear that his mention of logic miraculously turned Emily's behavior around.

"You make a point, Richard. Ash has plenty of time," she agreed, her temper dying down. "We wouldn't want him married with a baby on the way in two years tops anyway."

Maybe it wasn't a full one-eighty.

A shrill, frustrated growl demanded to release between Delia's lips, but was for the best stopped by Ash's awkward laugh. Marriage plus _a baby_? That may have worked for his parents, but that was surely _not_ in the cards for him. Not in the near future at least.

"Well, none of you have to worry, because that is _definitely_ not happening!" Ash declared loudly, as if it needed to be.

This only made Emily smile and eye her smugness to her daughter-in-law again. "I wouldn't expect that from you."

Oh, and the snub remarks just kept coming! With a narrowing of her brows, Delia chugged down a big gulp of her wine, hoping it would somehow make her feel better from the tension floating in the air. But it didn't. Feeling her fingers quiver out of agitation, the woman adjusted her throat and decided to make polite conversation before officially losing her marbles. Something that didn't consist of her past love life or the infantile development of her son's. And she did it fast.

"So... How's Zelda doing?" Delia finally managed to ask. "I haven't heard from her in so long."

"Zelda is doing fine," Richard answered, appreciative of the inquiry and official change in topic. "Actually- fairly recently, we took a trip to go visit her."

"Really?" she perked. "How was your visit?"

"Quite pleasant. A lot has happened to Zelda recently, good things of course..." The trailing of his words brought upon a new expression across Richard's face. Nothing alarming, but nothing jovial either. It was a faint cast of some kind of foreboding. Twisting, Richard looked to his wife promptly. "Would you like to tell them, Emily, or should I?"

Delia and Ash watched Emily attentively, only to see her clench her martini tighter and turn away as if repulsed. "You might as well do it. I can still hardly stomach it."

Concern bloomed. "Did something bad happen?" Delia was the first to ask.

"Oh, no, no, no," Richard hurriedly cleared the air. Emily's mannerism spoke of much more negativity than Richard's. But when did they not?

So, from there, Richard began to explain. "You see, about a month or so ago, Zelda invited Emily and me to meet her at the Indigo Plateau. She was doing a photo shoot for the league's Elite Four, and seeing that traveling to the Indigo Plateau is just as long a drive to Cerulean, we jumped on the chance. But once we arrived, we were- hit with a bit of a surprise," he carried on, finally breaking into a small smile and faint chuckle.

This, however, hardly made Emily's lips curve up. "It was more than just a surprise."

"What was it?" Ash inquired.

"Well, come to find out, Zelda is- engaged."

Delia's mouth dropped open. "She's going to get married? That's wonderful!" she soon exclaimed, utterly delighted. "I'm so happy for her!"

"Yeah, that's great!" Ash added, equally as cherry.

It was no secret that Zelda had difficulty finding true love, going from one guy to the next through her college years. But now, with a blooming career and life all her own, finally someone loved her as much as she tried to love back. Oh, Delia was over the moon for her close friend and sister-in-law! The kind, creative, and spirited person Zelda was only spoke that she deserved such everlasting bliss. She had gone through enough rough patches to at last be graced with some form of eternal elation, and knowing how guarded Zelda had become proved to her family that the man she promised eternity to must have been one catch.

And Delia couldn't wait to find out.

"Well, who is he?" the woman persisted excitedly. "Did you meet him?"

"Oh, we met him all right," Delia's mother-in-law responded in a sarcastic huff.

"Emily isn't all that thrilled about the match," Richard abruptly clarified.

"How can I be?" his wife threw back, rationalizing her opinion. "He's a living, breathing, modern caveman."

"Caveman?" Ash echoed.

"He is not a caveman, Emily," Richard stated sharply.

"You're right; he's a mountain-man! My apologies," Emily countered with another a sarcastic bite.

First Zelda's fiancé was classified as a caveman and now a _mountain-man_? This was just getting way to confusing!

"Wait a minute!" Ash hastily intervened, dying for an explanation. "He lives in the mountains?"

Ash's grandpa opened his mouth, but was already beat by his perturbed wife. "Part time," she bitterly answered. "What was it he said, Richard? About five months out of the year?"

Having suffered enough agony when Zelda told her parents the exciting news and introduced her betrothed to them, Richard was exhausted and rundown by his wife's ridicule of her soon to be son-in-law that he wanted to throw in the towel of telling the story properly.

"Would you like to finish the story, Emily, or shall I?" he suddenly proposed, gazing at her slightly bothered.

Emily simply avoided her husband's stern blue eyes, gazing down and watched the swishing of her drink sway back and forth. She took in a deep breath, and held her head up high.

"She engaged to Bruno. Of the Elite Five-"

"You mean Bruno of _the_ Elite Four?" Ash corrected, so wide-eyed and startled his grandmother wasn't sure what kind of reaction to expect.

"Yes," she replied, realizing her mistake. Bitterly that was. "Elite _Four_."

All eyes focused back onto Ash, who sat up in a stunned position, waiting anxiously for him to say something. His mouth was agape as he looked to his mom then to Pikachu on the floor who plainly blinked back at him. This- this was so astoundingly awesome and so unexpected, and so unbelievable- Ash could barely process the news. He felt as if he needed to pinch himself or close his eyes to see if reality had changed and that it was all a dream. But it wasn't. It was real. His dear Aunt Zelda was going to marry one of the most_ powerful_ trainers in the world. Strange and unpredictable pairing it was, the engagement was truly happening. And Ash was officially going to be connected to Bruno. By law, of course. But that was enough to satisfy the true passionate Pokémon trainer in him, making him believe he'd get some kind of special treatment somehow. And it would be more than just extra money or presents at Christmas.

Zelda had truly made his day and Ash couldn't wait to brag to the others about it.

Finally regaining thought, Ash's mouth began to sputter. "That's- that's crazy!" he at last proclaimed, still dumbfounded by the fact.

Ash's definition of 'crazy' was a much more positive than his grandmother's.

"That's what I thought," mumbled Emily, hardly moved.

"Apparently, they met last year," Richard started up again nonchalantly as he gained both Delia and Ash's stupefied expressions. "She was photographing up near the Onix Tunnel in Johto and he ended up saving her from a landslide caused by the Onix themselves. He claimed he was also checking out the Onix there."

Evidently, the classic ideal fantasy of a strong brave man rescuing a woman caught in a dangerous predicament did happen out of Delia's romance novels. And now if followed through so magically with the concept of a friendship that morphed into undying love!

"Then it was a good thing he was there!" Delia exclaimed. She was frightened for her poor friend's sake, but still fully ecstatic things turned out the way they did.

"You're telling me," Richard replied with a sort but serious laugh. "Scared us half to death when she told me what happened!"

"I'd say more than half to death," Emily grumbled, sipping her drink.

Her husband sighed. "Yes Emily, you _did_ go into a conniption over the rehashing of events."

"Well, how would you have liked me to react, Richard?" she persisted offensively, adding more unneeded sarcasm. "As if it was no big deal that one of our daughters was almost crushed by a giant boulder-"

"That doesn't surprise me, though." Ash's sudden phrasing caught everyone off guard, making him consider what he had just said. "I mean, about Bruno saving Zelda," the teenager quickly corrected. "He really knows his way around the mountains. And a ton about rock Pokémon."

"You've read up on him?" Richard inquired.

"Yeah, and I actually met him once."

That proclamation did it in for Emily.

"I need another drink," she stated bluntly and soon she went to the drink cart.

But no one took heed to Emily's dramatic statement, which left Delia to smile happily at the discovery while Ash and Richard started chatting away again. They were too engrossed in the news to care.

"Well, they plan to come down and visit a few weeks in September before the wedding, and if you already know Bruno, I'm sure he wouldn't mind catching up with you," Richard furthered to elucidate, only enticing Ash all the more. But then, reality struck. "That is, you still will be here in September, right?" his grandpa posed innocently of the haunting answer that rung through his grandson's ears. "Unless, adventure calls you again!"

Immediately, Ash's smile began to dwindle. Richard made a valid point, and while Ash knew it wasn't his intention to make him feel saddened, he did anyway. Ash was- very much lost on what to do next. The need to know what do to had been eating away at him recently, and now with all the exhilarating changes in life occurring with his family, in town, practically tantalizing him because he was destined to take off again-

Unless adventure called him again... Adventure always called Ash; it was just- he wasn't sure if there was another adventure out there waiting for him. Unless that-

The next big adventure was right there at home.


	4. The Estranged Mr Ketchum

**DISCLAIMER: **Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunlight's Return<strong>

**Chapter 4**

_The Estranged Mr. Ketchum _

The crowd was once thought by the Cerulean Gym Leader and her friend to be befittingly enormousness had grown to monstrous proportions in the late hours.

With tired and aching feet, Misty and Brock wandered towards the private trailer her sisters had arranged for them, seeking sanctuary inside its cramped corridors for peace and quiet, away from all the nightlife. She had spent a decent amount of time on a small platform, speaking in front of a good hundred people. Various questions were asked and answered, spanning from water battle techniques Misty used, specialties water types naturally obtained, their strengths and overall weaknesses, as well as proper care regarding nutrients and exercise. And of course, what trials and errors she went through to become a well-rounded gym leader. Not to mention, the whole object of promoting her family's gym. It was a lot of work on Misty's part, demonstrating and showing off her own Pokémon for the last three days with two panels a day. As much as Misty enjoyed and relished the rewarding experience, this was the last day of her and her sisters' tour, meaning the last city they would be visiting.

Which meant going home to Cerulean.

Stretching her arms with a yawn, the teenage girl looked to her friend steadily, finding him still in a lovey-dovey haze. Typical Brock. Misty would have believed that with him entering his twenties and enrolling in Pokémon medical school, that he'd grow out of his desperation to seek a pretty girl by swooning the stranger with poetry he made up right on the spot. However, as she spent the last couple of weeks with him traveling on the road, catching up during both their summer breaks, Misty learned that the saying "old habits die hard" was very much true.

At least in Brock's case.

Brock gazed back at her with a silly grin, stroking his petite goatee as if the facial hair made him more masculine and appealing. "I think she liked me," he announced, hoping Misty wouldn't pop his bubble of confidence.

But she did.

"She had a boyfriend," the red head stated, strutting towards the mini fridge. It was so obvious. The pair looked nothing like each other and the way they gawked and gestured at one another suggested something else. Especially when the guy gave Brock the stink eye, which he somehow overlooked between gushing compliments. Under Misty's observation, they were just a regular couple coming to see her panel and sisters' underwater ballet show.

"I think that guy was her brother," Brock countered.

Rolling her eyes, Misty opened the door and searched for a strawberry soda. All that was left was peach. "I think you're in denial," she replied with sharp wit, settling on the fruity drink.

This, however, only furthered to aggravate Brock's little singe of hope. "Ah c'mon, Misty! Why do ya always gotta think I'm gonna be shot down somehow?"

Because it had happened too many times to count. Cracking the can open, Misty paused, delaying her first sip. Boy, the things she did for him.

"Because you were, because the girl had a _boyfriend_. _That's_ why," she said sternly, finally quenching her thirst.

Brock's eyebrows lowered, twiddling with his thumbs in quiet desperation. "How can you be so certain?"

Misty groaned. "He had his arm wrapped around her waist, Brock! That was a dead giveaway in itself."

"You saw that too?"

At that point, Misty wanted to slap her forehead. Though instead, she sighed heavily and collapsed her body into the cushy hot pink couch with white polka dots perched in the corner of the movable dwelling. "Brock, listen. One day you'll find a girl who won't mind your cliché poems, your overbearing declarations of love, and showering of gifts- and will appreciate your great cooking skills," she added, praying her assurance would ease his desperate seek for a match.

Instead, all Misty got from her friend was a pathetic huff. "Yeah, _one day_."

"You can't force this kind of stuff to happen overnight, Brock," she continued logically. "You should know that by now."

"I know..." Brock's pitiful sigh and melancholy expression, however, didn't last long as a twinkle of something glimmered in his eye. Then, he met her eyes. "You think your sisters liked the gifts I got them?"

Before she could answer or release another irritated groan, a sudden knock at the door surprised the gym leader, drawing her attention to the creaking sound of it opening.

"Knock, knock!" Misty heard Daisy's voice erupt, and the sudden blast of what sounded like shrill giggles soon followed after.

Misty slipped another moan. "Oh, God. It better not be another knock-knock joke, Daisy," she warned loudly behind the door. "The last time you did that, you didn't even know the punch line."

"No, silly!" she snorted, not catching on to her youngest sister's harsh reminder. "It's no knock-knock joke! Guess who we like brought to our little abode!"

Misty could only guess. She held back her tongue, tired, but not too wiped out to get a little testy with her ditzy sisters. If there was one rule they were all supposed to follow, it was no bringing any men back to their home- well, their trailer. And they all agreed to it, begrudgingly of course, but Misty's sisters at the time of agreement seemed to accept the proposal enough for Misty to threaten they'd have to swear on the Bible if they refused to comply. Then again, was it really a surprise they were going back on their promise?

With a boiling temper and deprived of proper sleep, Misty's lungs expanded to produce another groan of displeasure, only for it fall short at the cracking open of the trailer door.

"TA-DA!"

What fell from the gym leader's mouth instead was a piercing gasp, and her soda nearly splattered on the floor before she haphazardly caught it. A deep chill ran up her spine, sea-green eyes refusing to gaze on another thing. Another person. It was so disturbingly alike she had to double-take to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Minor gushes of fizzy juice grazed Misty's fingertips as she tried to hold the can steadily again, and while she took notice of her sticky fingers, she looked to Brock. He was just as dumbstruck as she was. Jaw open wide, eyes pulsed with complete amazement, overwhelmed by the people standing before them, not knowing what to say. The _person_ standing before them.

"Wha-wha-what?" Stutters flew from Misty's mouth, raising her index finger to point to the eerie presence of the individual, but her rising of her apparent wobbly hand was cut short by a carefree shriek. "W-who-who is-"

"I know! Can you like believe it, lil' sis?! We actually met Drake!" Daisy announced, gesturing towards him with plainly obvious gleefulness. "And he like agreed to hang out with us!"

Misty's right eye twitched, though her mind wanted to roll her eyes so badly.

It wasn't the Orange Crew Leader's appearance that threw Misty and Brock for a loop. It was the man standing next to him, looking equally as awkward and ten times more peeved. That face... Misty's heart skipped a beat as her eyes skimmed the stranger from head to toe. He looked too eerily familiar, in the most chilling and puzzling light. The midnight locks, the birthmarks bared on both cheeks, but those intense icy eyes... With an agape mouth Misty in particular could not shift her eyes nor find the words to respond to her sister and their captives. How could Daisy, Lily, or Violet_ not_ have noticed or commented? Then again, it was them. And picking up a stranger's uncanny appearance to that of one of Misty's friends was something they wouldn't bother to observe.

Innocently or not, Misty's sisters made things very uncomfortable for her and Brock.

Drake suddenly stepped back from their closeness, quickly clarifying Daisy's statement. "I never agreed to any such thing-"

"Sure ya did!"

"So do you guys like want anything to drink before you go?"

Without even realizing it, Drake was backed into a cabinet, cornered by both Lily and Daisy with their big pleading eyes. It was bad enough they pushed him and his older brother into "coming in for a minute" to meet their supposed sister and her friend. Jay, of course, refused it instantly, only earning laughs and words of encouragement to "loosen up". And now, Jay looked as if he was about ready to put Drake in a choke-hold for all of this. Entertaining the Cerulean Sisters' silly wishes as if it was plausible they were going to get numbers in their cellphones by the end of the night was definitely _not_ on Jay's agenda. Getting the heck out of there was.

With furrowed brows, the master hissed, "I thought we've already been through this? _No thank you_."

He simply got a meaningless shrug from Violet, sneering at him a little before turning to Drake. "Fine. But what about you, Drake? Would _you _like something?"

"N-no, thank you," he stuttered, feeling his lower back being pressed firmly into the wooden structure. He felt claustrophobic with all three girls surrounding him and when he lingered his helpless eyes to Jay all he got was a stern look of: _say it_. It was like a timid child dealing with a bully and his father simply pushing him out there, telling him to "be a man."

Swallowing, Drake tried to capture a similar gaze as his brother's. "I'm really all right," he stated without hesitation. "And it's been nice meeting you girls, but we really should get going."

"What's the hurry?" Violet posed, unmoved. "The big fireworks display will be like ending soon. Maybe we can go check it out?"

"Like I said, we _have_ to leave-"

"Say sis, ya mind staying behind?" The focus was now back onto Daisy, who absentmindedly asked her youngest sister for the favor, as if their plan was in motion. "The Pokémon from the show are like super tired and need to be fed."

A scoff flew from Misty's mouth. "I can't believe you three! How oblivious you all are! Do you not _see_ _who_ is _standing_ before you?!"

"Yeah,_ we_ know," Lily retorted, slightly nettled by Misty's response. "It's like Drake."

Fingernails dug into Misty's scalp, pulling violently on her tresses with the most profound growl she had produced all day. "Arrgh! That's not what I meant!"

"C'mon Misty, we all know you have a crush on him," Violet threw in, referring to the islander. "The posters on your wall say it all-"

"Will you please stop talking before I _permanently_ make your mouth glued shut?!"

Not only were they completely clueless to the obvious, but they also had the nerve to outwardly reveal her subtle crush and admiration for Drake, too? And right _in front_ of him? Misty's blood pressure hadn't risen to such a heightened level in so long, that she felt three times as flustered as she normally would. With maturity, her hotheaded temper had simmered quite evenly, but now- it appeared Misty still had enough impatience to become testy again more so than simply exasperated.

Daisy waved her hand casually with a tiny "no big deal" grin. "Chill Misty. No need to get like jealous."

"I'm not jealous! What _I am_ is-"

A sudden rumble erupted below everyone's feet, ending the bantering.

As if a vibration of gigantic footsteps was shaking the ground, the entire trailer rattled. Items falling off shelves, furniture and anything lying on the floor rumbling with faint jumps off the floor. Then came the unexpected. Something powerful rocked the trailer violently enough to knock everyone off their feet, sliding them across the perimeter of the movable home as well as the luxury items within it. Misty and Brock's tumbling downward led them to ramming into the sofa, soft groans of pain falling from their mouths with eyes tightly shut. Swiftly, Jay and Drake reached for the corners of the counters, gripping tightly while resisting the force of their feet gliding into a clumsy stumble. Which was exactly what happened to Misty's sister. Violet, frightened and panicked, reached for the fridge door, only to have the contents roll out, some easily breakable items spewing across the floor. The slippery mess of various juices led to Daisy tripping, who then clung to the back of Drake's vest for support, and Lily's not so thought-out attempt at holding on to a handle of a drawer forced it to tug out of its place and slam into the back of Jay.

But as Jay caught himself on the floor with one hand, he noticed the roaring had stopped. However, his hand still felt the tremor tickling his nerves.

"What in the world was that?!" exclaimed Brock, rushing to his feet to look outside the back trailer window.

Scrambling upwards, Misty followed after her friend, plastering her hands and nose against the glass as he did. And what was going outside only furthered to confuse and rattle her anxiety. "Has everyone lost their minds?"

If they thought the juddering the trailer suffered was bad, then they couldn't even imagine how topsy-turvy it would be like to go outside. From every direction flocks of shrieking people shoved and pushed each other, as if in mad hysteria trying to find a way out of the festival limits. But why? And why was there a violet rumble? Misty quickly assumed the two were connected.

"What are they all running away from?" Brock muttered, utterly dumbfounded.

Now looking outside another window themselves, Misty's sisters huddled together out of fear, Daisy in particular biting her nails as she let out a wail. "Oh my gosh! This is like in that crime drama I just filmed! This serial killer goes like on this crazy rampage and decides to punish all the people who like hurt him by attacking this fundraiser that's open to the public!"

Lily gulped, bringing a shaky curled hand close to her chest. "W-what did he do?"

Daisy sucked in a deep, savage breath between her cries. "He sets off a bomb and my character dies!"

Immediately, the three girls began their bawling session, though they lacked any sympathetic eyes. Jay rolled his eyes with a release of a growl of frustration. _Dammit!_ He was afraid this would happen! He was worried they wouldn't leave in time. And now, he felt responsible for all of it. For all those innocent people and Pokémon possibly getting hurt...

"We're too young and beautiful to die!" Violet sniffled, her hands clasped dramatically over her cheeks. "Especially here of all places!"

Carrying on her dramatic response as if it was her last role in a low-budget film, Daisy clung to Jay's arm loosely, beaming up at him with watery green eyes. "If we die, at least I knew I had a faithful man like you by my side."

She had to be kidding.

A wrinkle of his nose and a sneer added to Jay's severe dislike of her soft touch as he pulled away. "I'm _married_!" he snarled loudly, hoping she'd get the picture _finally. _

A look of disappointment crossed the blonde woman's face. "Aww! Bummer!"

"Like totally!" Lily added, scoffing.

"No, _not_ bummer," the master corrected. His attention of the distraught girls didn't last long as he looked back to his brother. Then, he saw the lights in the trailer beginning to flicker again. "Drake, we have got to get out of here. And fast!"

In one nod of agreement, the two men hurriedly made way to the trailer door, not looking back for a second.

This jumped Misty into action, her feet shaking as she felt the structure of the trailer rattle again. "Hold on! Wait!" she cried desperately.

As they darted out, the brothers were faced with an obstacle worse than it looked from inside the glass windows. The immense herd of screaming citizens seemed to have gotten bigger. The running through the festival area hadn't ceased, neither had the bumping into one another, falling down and rising again to rejoin the mayhem, but acting as if they never knew where they were exactly going. Panicked eyes scanned across the perimeter, forcing Jay to kick his adrenaline up.

"They're here," he announced hoarsely with wide eyes.

Instantaneously, Drake wore the same expression as his brother did, sending them both into a frenzy of running. The pair ran across the violent scene of mania; the calling of the Cerulean sisters and the other two was muffled to their ears while they struggled through. This pushing against the dense crowd to the exit, however, ended abruptly as someone rammed into Drake from behind, sending him straight on top of Jay. Landing to the ground with a loud and agonizing thud, Jay was conscious enough to pull himself out from under Drake's weight, then helping his dizzy brother up from the sudden collapse.

"Jay, this place is a madhouse," Drake declared, frantic eyes watching the growing insanity as he tried to balance. "How are we ever going to reach the exit?"

At this point, with a throbbing head and the giant masses of people every which way, it was nearly impossible to locate the exit. Jay was positive he parked the car to the north, but with everything ensuing so destructively, could he be certain? And could he and Drake really just up and take off?

Eventually, Jay's wandering eyes settled back on his brother. "We can't."

Drake lowered his brows. "What?"

"They won't stop till they find me. So _we_ have to find them."

Not even giving Drake a chance to process, Jay took off again, heading to what his brother presumed to be the center of where the chaos erupted. To where Team Rocket was.

"Jay?" the islander hollered over the cries and yelling, watching him slip further and further away. "Jay!" Seeing it was hopeless, Drake went after him and fought through the multitude of petrified individuals, only pushing harder to not lose sight of his brother.

As was Misty and Brock. With their speed and resolve, the pair plowed their own path, only pausing for a moment in a clearer spot to scout the area. Heads swiveled about endlessly, going back and until two heads covered in black hair moving at steadfast speeds stole the redhead's attention.

"Over there!" Misty proclaimed, pointing ahead as well as nudging her friend. "They went this way!"

* * *

><p>Diving further and deeper into the overgrown pack of distress led the brothers closer to the culprit of the ensuing pandemonium. And as they did so, the crowd thankfully thinned, enough for Jay and Drake's mind to semi-focus and for them to prepare themselves for what they were about to discover. A towering machine stood near the auditorium where the water show premiered; a mechanical terror in the shape of a Raticate loomed over the frantic citizens, its bright red eyes scanning the surrounding area repeatedly. There was a giant red R plastered on the front, but Jay didn't need that to confirm his suspicions. The clear glass that shaped the mouth gave a fuzzy outline of what appeared to be two individuals inside, shades of green and gold and black mingling together.<p>

Those colors revealed the miscreants behind all of this.

Jay froze, pushing his brother back with a firm but gentle hand, having them lurk behind one of the stationed buildings. Their eyes just barely peaked around the corner to remain camouflaged as they observed the machine.

"Giovanni is really taking things to the next level," muttered Jay, eyes carefully inspecting the scene.

Drake cocked an eyebrow. "You recognize those two?"

"No." The master shook his head. Brimble always came with at least three recruits by his side. "Never seen them before. They must be new recruits."

"_Better_ recruits?"

Recognizing deep concern in his little brother's voice, Jay chose his words thoughtfully. "Possibly. But they can't be by that much... I'm going in."

Drake snatched him by the arm. "Going in?" he repeated, hanging onto Jay tightly. "Where?"

"Just stay close behind, but don't make yourself too noticeable." He removed his little brother's clinging hand, baring a fatherly sternness in his baritone cords. Prof. Oak's words of warning haunted him in the back of his mind. "Not unless I am absolutely in danger. I _mean_ it. I don't need them finding out about you."

"But Jay-"

"Please. Just trust me. I've been through worse."

The direct order left Drake to submit; however, that didn't stop him from worrying. Quivering blue eyes watched Jay disappear into the crowd again, his stomach churning with the unthinkable. It wasn't that Drake was afraid of Team Rocket, and it wasn't that he doubted Jay, either. What he didn't like was hanging back, letting Jay stand on his own when there was no need to. When he could help fight them off easily with his well-equipped team. Except the fact that Jay was simply ensuring his brother's safety against Giovanni's threats...

The crimson eyes were so boldly bright that no one dared to stare into them. Though they could see all. They could see through the buildings themselves, zoom in on screeching individuals to get a closer look, to identify its target. But the device was having bad luck and time was running out.

"You see him?"

Butch didn't lift his gaze as he worked away on the controls, zooming in and out. "Not yet."

Cassidy gazed forward again, scouring with furrowed brows. "Keep looking. He'll be coming. Playing 'hero' to all these foolish civilians," she laughed dryly.

That Butch was beginning to doubt. The size of the crowd was enormously massive, and that neither he nor Cassidy would instantly find their quarry like a child in the midst of a grand Easter egg hunt. To Butch, it felt like a waste of time. Maybe because he assumed their prey would be a coward; running away verses actually attempting to fight the damn thing. That and the police would be showing up sooner or later. And next to children's birthday parties, restaurants that sang happy birthday to you, and fun-houses, Butch_ hated_ prison.

But this contraption was the new state of the art in Team Rocket's mechanical field. And it had already tested as successful by three other groups...

Sighing, Butch lazily swiveled the joystick around. "I don't know, Cassidy. This really doesn't seem to be wor- Waaah!"

A sudden shift in their overgrown rat's footing tipped them just slightly to the right, enough to rattle them around and catch them by surprise. Cassidy fell directly out of her seat, crashing into Butch's, which sent him flying out of his. He bonked his head against a wall, wincing at the sharp pain that ran up his spine.

With a fuzzy pair of eyes and spiked nerves, Butch shrieked, "What the hell was that?"

Tripping over her own feet, Cassidy growled in frustration, clutching the back of her chair with a tight grip. "Arrggh!" She knew exactly _who_ did this as she gazed out the glass. "Why that son of a-"

"Looking for me?"

Their high definition audio picked up the sound of a voice; a voice they had heard before through recordings thanks to Brimble. A face Cassidy had been dying to see in the flesh, and bring back home to earn the biggest reward her boss had ever offered in the organization's history. The thought of that motivated her to a degree of determination that she swore she'd do anything to gain it. That she and Butch would gain it. Well, a sixty-forty split, of course.

A sharp glance from Cassidy didn't need to be made, for Butch was already on the task he had been waiting to do, finally magnifying the scope of the rat's eyes to have a clear picture of the target. There he was. Jayce Ketchum. Smirking like Brimble always said he did. Next to his side in a fighting stance, the trainer had his prized muscular Swampert out with him, making Cassidy assume that big mud-fish brute was the culprit behind her forming headache and disheveled gold locks.

But instead of allowing her temper to flare, Cassidy pressed a finger delicately over the intercom and smirked right back. "You know you're practically asking to be captured?"

"Am I?" the master retorted wittily, folding his arms across his chest with a hip out. "'Cause it looks like you two are practically asking to be carted away in handcuffs. Why don't you just high-tail and run while you still have a chance?"

"Humph! You really are as cocky as Brimble said," the woman spat back, her cocky grin never shrinking. But her brows narrowed all the more. "I would suggest coming quietly, unless you want more innocent civilians harmed."

Jay simply glanced around, unmoved, then looked back up. "I think you've already disrupted enough for me not to come quietly," he countered.

Cassidy huffed and shrugged. "Too bad. Guess you'll have to learn the hard way. Let us properly introduce ourselves, then!"

In a flash, Jay saw them disappear from their station through the clear glass, and soon a rumbling occurred on top of the Raticate's head. He raised an eyebrow in suspicion, seeing the two grunts emerge from their control room as two flaps opened the head. They rose on a metal support board standing back to back with arms crossed over their chest and overly confident smiles. Heads held high and a lack of intimidation in the air as the metal board clicked into place, securing their spot. Jay wondered what exactly they were up to. If they were going to come down and pose a double battle or had another device just waiting to snatch him up before his reflexes could jump into action-

"Here's our mission so you better listen!"

The rhyming, the sudden pointing of their index fingers directly at the master stumped Jay, even Swampert, who cocked his head to the side in confusion. What in the world were they up to?

Cassidy sucked in a deep breath. "To infect the world with devastation!"

"To blight all people in every nation!" Butch followed just as flamboyantly.

"To denounce the goodness of truth and love!"

"To extend our wrath to the stars above!"

"Cassidy!" she announced, her hand flicking her long gold locks with her shimmering earrings, as if she was the goddess of spite.

"And Butch, of course!" her partner added, thrusting a strong fit in the air.

"We're Team Rocket, circling Earth all day and night!"

"Surrender to us now or you will surely lose the fight!"

There was a long pause.

Then, Jay just smirked. "Seriously?" he said incredulously. "A _motto_? You honestly believe rehearsing that ridiculous slogan for your corrupt organization that you probably wrote in less than ten minutes intimidates me one bit?"

Cassidy and Butch were insulted. It actually took them twenty minutes to jot down their personal motto, and they put a lot of consideration into as well. Wanting to outdo their fellow competition who insisted their motto was somehow better... Butch could hear the grinding of his partner's pearly white teeth, outraged someone the likes of Jayce Ketchum would insult her so boldly. He was foolish to her. Absolutely foolish! He had no idea he was messing with! No idea on how many attacks she had tactfully pulled off and with success! Unlike many of her fellow grunts! She was no pathetic agent like Brimble, and she wasn't going to allow her and Butch's tactics be ridiculed without payback.

But Cassidy wasn't going to let Jay heighten her temper either.

"We'll show you!" the woman hollered, trying to reclaim her composure. "Hutch, after him!"

Butch narrowed his eyebrows as the metal board began to lower. "It's Butch!"

"Whatever!" his partner yelled back from inside the machine, as they landed back down in their seats. "Just capture him already!"

Spontaneously pressing various keys, Butch started to work away, unlocking various tricks that were embedded in their secret weapon. His impressive typing led to an impressive display of attacks spewing from the Raticate's paws, launching directly at Jay. The master readied himself as Swampert leaped in front of him, not even giving the giant mud-fish an order to do so.

What appeared to be nets sprang open as they hurled closer to the trainer and his Pokémon, followed by small rockets shattering into the ground to block them from escaping the surrounding area.

"Swampert, use protect!"

With the sharp command, the Pokémon enforced an invisible barrier, protecting him and his master from the net, determined to capture them in one vicious hold. As it dove directly at them, it instead clung around the protection shield, eventually obliterating into small fragments that scattered the air.

Another growl flew from Cassidy's lungs as she witnessed their first strike of defeat. "Fire more! More!"

Her demands furthered to irritate Butch, considering he was working at the speed of light. "I'm working it!" he spat.

Still observing from the sidelines, Drake's worry grew more intensively, his eyes darting to the rat's paws releasing more delay weapons and nets, and then back to his older brother, who made him get a hitch in his throat every time he just barely moved unscathed. Something had to be done. Jay couldn't keep this up. He didn't even have a second to reach for his pokeball and call upon another teammate, and Swampert could only use protect so many times before running tired of the move.

Never had he seen a machine built by Team Rocket to be so undeniably fast. So fast, similar to his-

An idea burst through Drake's mind, he nearly released a smile of his pure genius. That's probably what Team Rocket based their mechanical weapon's speed on! Reaching to his neck, Drake was about ready to unhook the shrunken 'ball on the thin chain, when suddenly two shadows cast near him. Two familiar shadows. He hastily looked up to find the redheaded girl and her dark complexion friend from the trailer, panting heavily till their eyes lingered to the horrific display before them.

They ended their catching of breath for a moment.

"Oh my gosh!" Misty cried, eyes not shifting from the ongoing scuffle.

"It's Team Rocket!" Brock proclaimed, seeing he recognized the figures and the obvious red R. "It's Cassidy and Whatshisname!"

"But what are they doing here?!" the gym leader furthered to remain puzzled, completely shell-shocked by the villain's sudden intrusion.

It would perfectly explain why everyone was engulfed in a state of alarm, however, that did not explain why Team Rocket was present. Perhaps to simply steal Pokémon at one of the biggest functions for trainers held across Kanto? With suspicion, Misty's eyes flashed to a stunned Drake, who had been so adamant about leaving along with his friend. Then, her eyes darkened. Or was it something more entirely?

Staying strong with a mask of conviction that his plan would be put into motion, Drake's gaze trailed over to the two young adults. "You're both Pokémon trainers, aren't you?"

Brock gulped out of slight nervousness as he turned to him. "Y-yes sir, we are."

A soft smile spread across Drake's lips as he finally clipped the 'ball off his necklace, spinning it on his index finger. "Think you could help me with a little attack strategy then?" he asked outwardly, catching it in its full size in one swoop.

What the Orange Crew Leader had in mind was definitely not what Misty or Brock had expected. Though they should have known better.

Watching the scene unfold from below, repeating the same actions over and over, Drake had the two saddled to his trusty Dragonite, who soon was soaring headfirst as high as he could go with Brock and Misty clinging on for dear life. They agreed full-heartedly to the islander's scheme, seeing they were willing to do anything to end Team Rocket's evil doings, but this surely was something they underestimated.

"Whoa!" Brock exclaimed, digging his fingers into Misty's tank-top near her waist. He couldn't help but see how far off the ground they were. His knees began to quake. "I think Dragonite is going too fast!" he stated, looking to the back of his friend's head.

Misty cringed herself, shaking off the nerves with a brave face. The only thing that was helping her was _not_ to look down. "Just hold on, Brock. Drake knows what he's doing," she assured, clasping her hands tightly around the dragon's scaly neck.

"I hope he does!"

The battle on Earth wasn't going anywhere, and it was evident that even though everything was small, Drake's friend was tiring out and so was his immense blue companion. Shots kept being fired, the stranger tiredly but with perseverance kept running from side to side, and the Swampert, running low on energy, fired a mud-slap that barley nicked the machine.

Taking a deep breath full of rushing anxiety, Misty gently but firmly tapped Dragonite in the side with her foot, having the Pokémon stop midair, flapping its wings as they hung. From there, the redhead looked down and the distance terrified her. But she put on the face a strong gym leader would wear and took charge.

"Okay, we've got a clear view of the head of the machine," she declared, glancing over her shoulder to Brock. "Ready?"

Brock swallowed. "Ready as I'll ever be." With a tremor, he removed his right hand from Misty's waist, fumbling to locate the correct pokeball on his belt. Then he did a similar thing of calming himself like Misty. Putting on his version of what a warrior would wear. "Let's do this!" Tossing the 'ball upward, a bright light shined into the sky, unleashing a toxic frog. As Brock caught the spinning 'ball back in his hand, the what was now revealed to be Croagunk landed in front of Misty, sitting with relaxed and blank expression on the midsection of Dragonite's neck. Brock wished he could be just as relaxed as his amphibious companion.

Readying herself to get the plan in full swing, Misty gently threw her pokeball up in the air, revealing a bubbly Azurill who cooed as she landed back into Misty's arms, snuggling close to her chest. Now, time for phase two. Receiving confirmation from Misty with an affirmative nod, Brock pointed forward, preparing his part in the epic attack.

"Croagunk, use poison sting!" he ordered.

"Azurill, use your water gun!" Misty also commanded as the round blue mouse perched itself on Croagunk's head.

Then, as Dragonite's mouth opened wide, a bright shimmer coming from inside, the final request played out at last.

"And aim straight into Dragonite's hyper beam!" the trainers said in unison, anxious to see the result.

Without hesitation the Pokemon did exactly as they were told, flashes of bright purple shots being blast downward with a powerful current of water following afterward. It was when Dragonite's growing hyper beam inched its way out of his mouth that the attacks all mingled together. The sudden flash of lights blinded Misty and Brock momentarily, the exhilaration of the hyper beam and the added combo of water and poison attacks ascending downward in one dangerous bundle.

Hearing the familiar sound, Jay's exhausted eyes drifted above, seeing the hurling shot of mixed colors coming his way. He ducked instantly, Swampert shielding his body with one final move of protect, only to discover the beam had thankfully missed them completely. Instead, they were secured by the scraps of giant metal flying through the atmosphere and landing with great thuds to the ground. As Jay gawked up, the barrier flickering, he saw the head of the Raticate had been destroyed in one blow and that two screaming fried figures were now drifting so high in the air they had become nothing but specks.

Then, the rest of the device took its final step, crashing into hundreds of pieces with an energized wind whipping across the land. The strong gusts broke the invisible barricade entirely, but at that time only particles of the machine fell from the sky. Shaking his large head with a faint haze of dust clouding its view, Swampert's eyes immediately followed the floating swift gold Pokémon, entranced by its speed as it glided back down to earth.

And so did Jay.

Drake may not have revealed himself to Team Rocket, but he still found a way to have his brother's back. And Jay was immensely thankful for that.

* * *

><p>Next to any roast Delia had made, Emily's chef's was the runner-up of exquisitely and perfectly cooked in Ash's eyes.<p>

The talk across the table was much lighter and less suffocating with jeers and snide remarks. Delia hardly touched her wine this time around, and found herself relaxing a touch more than earlier. Ash, too, enjoyed the atmosphere better, but even as strawberry shortcake strolled its way over for dessert, a feeling Ash had been bottling up for the last couples of days was beginning to seep out. However, it didn't fully release its presence till he and his mother said their goodbyes and waltzed over to the run-down but still kicking pick-up truck.

Walking beside her with his hands shoved in his jean pockets, Ash looked to Pikachu for encouragement to speak, but all he found was a tired and bored out of his mind rodent from the feast. So, the teenager proceeded anyway, fearful of the answer or not. "Hey, Mom?" he soon called, a slight shake in his voice. "You don't think I've- been wasting my time, have you?"

Turning to look at her son, Delia stopped in her tracks. Wasting his time! Ash had done more and seen more in a lifetime than most could accomplish! "Of course not," she replied honestly, worrying. "Ash, you're doing what your heart tells you. You're following your dream. And as long as growing as a trainer gets you somewhere and makes you happy, then honey," she sighed with a gentle, bittersweet grin, "that's all I want."

He nodded back understandingly, soaking in her words before replying. Then, he glanced at his loyal companion, still seeing the mouse slumped tiredly and snoring ever so faintly. Ash smiled wryly at this. Even Pikachu had the answer without saying a word. "I think... I think I'm going to stay longer than a couple of weeks," Ash finally proclaimed.

Delia's eyes shimmered with hope. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ash assured with certainty. "Prof. Oak hasn't really mentioned anywhere for me to travel to yet and... I think I've missed out on enough," he admitted, sad and yet eager all the same. "You've got a lot going for you, Dani does, Tracey and Prof. Oak do, Zelda, even Gary..." Realizing such- it felt as if everyone was soaring past him, knowing what they wanted, making something of themselves, finding their callings, and he was still stuck in the same routine. Traveling for badges and getting mixed up in crazy scenarios, but learning meaningful lessons along the way. And Ash never regretted any of his journeys for a single minute. It was just that-

It was time for an equal balance. To give back to his family and community and to still pursue his dreams on the side. To not feel disconnected.

To not feel homesick.

"Would that be okay, Mom?" he asked, double-checking for approval. "If I stayed and I dunno, helped you guys?"

Delia's heart wanted to sing. She knew better, though, than to get too excited. Smothering Ash might drive him away to the road again, and that was definitely not what the jovial mother wished. It was only right and healthy for Ash to take a break, but not lose sight of his goals either. Besides, having her precious angel back around the house, even though he was morphing into a young respectable man... Delia thought she'd never get to experience the old times again.

Delia's smile grew. "You don't ever have to ask, Ash. You're always more than welcome to stay. This _is_ your home."

He returned her words with another nod, having the pair proceed to the truck again. But then, Ash crept out of his shell again.

"If it's okay with you, I think I'll call Brock and Misty in the morning," he stated, he too now growing his own smile. "See if they want to come by sometime. Maybe they could even come for the party at the inn or something."

All the plans, all the warm inviting suggestions, Delia was more than welcoming to all of it. Finally, a summer that they all could relish together.

The woman's smile finally bloomed with hazy eyes, filled with content tears. "That's perfectly all right with me."

* * *

><p>Once Team Rocket was out of sight, the entire perimeter of the festival was blocked off with tape and police cars and ambulances stationed around it. Many people were being interviewed, while some were being treated for any injuries, both for themselves and for their Pokémon. So many noises it could make one's head spin. Misty and Brock, however, just wrapped up their statements with an officer, standing by waiting anxiously for the entire place to clear. They had, like other trainers, been thanked by the police department for their brave services, but knowing all was well and no Pokémon were unlawfully taken did not ease either trainer.<p>

Especially Misty.

From a short distant, she watched the setting sun's rays cast brightly around the two people who stumped her most for being there. The Orange Crew Leader Drake and his mysterious but oddly recognizable friend having their own private interaction with the head of the department, Fuchsia's Officer Jenny herself. The situation was so serious and so irking, not even Brock bothered to run up to her and declare his affections. Neither of them knew what to think, hardly processing the sudden attack, the appearance of this familiar face, yet not familiar at all...

Glancing over her shoulder, Misty caught another glimpse of the man from the corner of her eye and shivered from the pulse of shock. There was no other logical explanation. Crazy as it sounded, Misty's hunch was telling her something. And usually, it was right. Her suspicions stayed wildly noticeable, wide eyes and an agape mouth every time she stared at him. The repercussions of Team Rocket's surprise attack had done their damage in startling the gym leader, between the partial destruction of her sister's trailer to the madness ensuing outside, people running and screaming for their lives. But this...

Twirling back, Misty met Brock's gaze and released the startling evidence plaguing her mind with a cry of insistence. "Just look at him, Brock, and tell me you don't see what I see!" she exclaimed, slightly hysterical. Her feet creaked faintly underneath her weight, the explosive battle still wearing on her fried mind and body.

Brock's eyes narrowed, peaking only for a second and then back at her. "Of course I see it," he replied in a hushed but serious voice. "But Misty- we can't just jump to conclusions. For one if he is _him_, why is he with Drake? Why is he in Fuchsia? And what does Team Rocket have to do with any of this?"

As usual, Brock made logical points no one would dare overlook, and that Misty herself had been itching to uncover. Neither one of them knew much information on Ash's father. He was a traveling trainer, Delia had explained briefly, but left it at that. It almost felt prohibited to mention him or inquire anything about his whereabouts, personality, relationships with various family manners. A reasonable explanation was never given for his absence. Not that they ever needed to really know, nor was it their business. But now, Misty wished she had pressed more. After all, the most she innocently got out of Ash was a name. A name Delia never bothered uttering. That, and his age. Well, at least she squeezed out of her friend that his parents were young when they got married, right out of high school to be exact. And this man didn't look a day over thirty-five to Misty's estimate.

But that didn't answer all the haunting questions Brock listed. There wasn't enough proof besides their personal deductions.

"I don't know," she at last sighed. "But I need to find out."

With determination flickering in her eyes, Misty strayed away without much of a struggle, ignoring Brock's calls like a possessed Tauros on the color red. But that didn't stop him from reaching out.

"Misty! Misty hold on!" The young man's hurried steps sped fast enough to gently but securely take hold of her arm, drawing her back while she shot him a severely displeased look. "You can't go over there," ordered Brock firmly, playing big brother.

Misty's eyes sharpened. "Why? It's not against the law," she snapped.

"Yeah, but- what if we're _not_ supposed to know?" he hinted, a foreboding of danger riding heavily in his concerned voice. "What if this is more serious than we thought? It did look like Team Rocket was specifically after him. You can't deny that."

Again, Misty had difficulty dismissing her friend's observations. Cassidy and Butch had acted so violently, so adamant about achieving their goal, that for a second Misty wondered if their usual determination had worsened for a reason. Because of a target, to cause that much collateral damage, to draw that much attention for the authorities to drop by.

A little glimmer of sense in all the chaos shimmered.

It would explain why Ash's dad was never brought up; why Delia always seemed depressed or awkward at first glimpse of her estranged husband's mention. However, that observation only led to more questions. Did Ash and Delia know he was somehow involved with Team Rocket, and apparently the leader of the Orange Crew too? Misty didn't believe so. If anything, it appeared as if Ash and Delia were shot in the dark. Maybe they never explained Ash's father's lack of appearance was because they _didn't_ know why. The happenings were all too strange for the gym leader to dismiss as her simply reading into wild hypothesis. They seemed, plausible. Plus from what she could gather, even though no one besides Ash was ever eager to share anything about him- Ash's dad couldn't have been a villain. Not if he was traveling with Drake or if Team Rocket was hunting him down. Something, whether it was a marital spat that drove Ash's parents apart or secrets his dad was keeping, Misty couldn't just walk away without trying. Not when out of the blue, he suddenly appeared to her.

Still, she didn't know if she could trust him. _Yet_.

Misty paused. It was likely she was carefully deciding how to answer, an answer that would yield to her going forth with her headstrong plans. And she did, while thoughtfully lifting her attention to Brock again with twice as much resolve. "And if that's the case, then Ash and his family could be in danger. We need to know, Brock."

Pulling away, Brock freed his friend without further argument but crept behind her, keeping his distance while still listening in on her attempt at uncovering the truth.

While nervously approaching the man, Officer Jenny was in the midst of wrapping up her questions, giving each of the men thankful smiles for their willing cooperation.

"Thank you gentlemen," she said, finishing up her detailed notes. "I don't think there will be any further questions."

The men nodded back to her, watching the officer stroll away as she attempted to gather some of her detectives around. Then, they looked as if they were going to make a break for it. With weary eyes the pair began to hastily stroll away, kicking Misty's mind and body into gear.

"Excuse me!" she beckoned politely, though they did not freeze at her call. "Mister?" They were either running away from her or did not know who she was referring to. But Misty carried on anyway. "Wait!" Her jogging quickened into a short run, panting heavily enough for the men to hear and turn to her. Casually, they beamed at the teenage girl, watching her regain her breath as she tried to sound sane in her questioning. "I know this might sound strange but- do you have a son?" she asked, gesturing to the unknown man in particular.

The man's eyes sharpened, his voice bathed in heightened suspicion. What was this girl up to? And who was she? "_Why_?" He recognized the look she gave him back in the trailer. Before all Hell broke loose.

But his skepticism of her question concealed nothing. Instantly, Misty read his response. "You do, don't you?" she said, her sea-green eyes softening into something slightly sympathetic, and yet bearing a stroke of uncertainty.

And with that gaze, Misty plunged herself into a deeper side of the man. Scratching at something so raw his eyes turned almost as cold as ice. As did his voice. He shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. "Listen, kid, I don't know what you're getting at but it ends here."

Immediately the man whipped around without further question, having Drake trail behind him, anxious eyes looming over at Misty. She could sense he was a guarded creature, too, yet hardly touched by her passion, her stubbornness, to know the truth.

"Please-" she slipped with a pathetic plea, only to recover her strength in her voice. Misty didn't want to go this far, but what choice did she have. She sucked in a deep breath and demanded, "Mr. Ketchum, please wait!"

With a racing heart pounding profoundly inside of her, Misty watched the man spin around slowly, ignoring the worried eye Drake gave him. Brock, too, anxiously observed from the side, biting on his tongue, concerned of what was to come next.

His brows narrowed deeper, but his eyes lightened. "How do you know my name?" the man demanded firmly, but quietly.

Misty breathed in another deep breath. "Your son."

The man's eyes intensified, the color of ice melting into a deeper, richer shade of icy blue. "You know Ash?"

The ice was beginning to crack.

Misty's lips curved up softly. Her hunch was right all along. "A little," she said gently. "He's my friend."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Ooo, such a cliffhanger we've been left with! I can't tell you all how excited I was to get this chapter posted. As you can see, this is just the beginning of the great big adventure ahead. So much going on all at once! Well please stay tuned to find out how it all works out between Misty, Brock, and Jay! And thank you all so much for being patient for updates. School has been crazy and I don't have much time to sit down and really log on often. But I would like to tell you all again how much I DO APPRECIATE your guy's reviews. :) Your kind words help motivate me to keep writing!

Thank you very much for reading! :D


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